


Back Against the Wall

by AkuChibi



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst, Aversion to the 'L' word, Deal With It, Don't Judge Me, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit but not that explicit, Falling In Love, Feelings, Feelings of Inadequacy, Forgive Me, Hope that's okay, Hurt/Comfort, I hurt them, I'm tagging the shit out of this, Idiots in Love, Insecurity, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Reyes gets a POV too, Reyes is a softy really, Reyes is a sweetheart deep down, Romance, SAM is a snitch, SAM is reassuring, Sam Ships It, Scott acts confident, Scott has a lot of issues, Scott has daddy issues, Scott is pretty sure his father made the wrong call, Scott thinks he should be in coma instead of Sara, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt, Temptation, because I like this song, but he's really not, but so does Reyes, eventually, fluff??, fucking with timeline, it's been a long time since I wrote something like that, maybe? - Freeform, so it's okay, use of song lyrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2018-10-17 16:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 129,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10597926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkuChibi/pseuds/AkuChibi
Summary: Scott's pretty sure his father wasn't in the right state of mind to be delegating his duties as Pathfinder when he was dying - he's pretty sure there's been a terrible mistake.But it's too late to fix it now.Maybe one day he'll get used to 'Pathfinder', but he doubts it.





	1. Hanging by a Thread, Feeling Like a Fool

**Author's Note:**

> Obsessive use of the song "Back Against the Wall" by Cage the Elephant, because I love that song, it's my ringtone, and I was listening to it while writing this. So. Basically, it fits the story. You'll see. I think.
> 
> I started this with no idea where it was going. We'll see what happens. 
> 
> I suck at game dialogue because fuck that time-consuming crap - just let me write. So the dialogue isn't perfect; it's from memory, and I haven't even completed game yet, so take it with a grain of salt. I try to stay away from game dialogue as much as I can.
> 
> This is in no way connected to the 'Compatibility' story I wrote. So. They're not connected at all. Totally different story, I just like the name Scott and tend to stick with default name/appearance, so...
> 
> I like snarky Ryder. I also feel like after everything, he'd be out of his element, and need some time to adjust, which the game does not give. So. Here's this. I guess. Enjoy?
> 
> There is slash. I like slash. You don't? Why you reading this? You know where the 'back' button is. 
> 
> It's eventual slash. Might take a while. Hope that's okay. 
> 
> I have a vague number of chapters. We'll see how that pans out. (Update: it didn't pan out. This thing might go on forever.)
> 
> It's rated E for chapter 8's content, but it's not that explicit, if you know what I mean? Still, rated E anyway. 
> 
> Enjoy.

**Back Against the Wall**

_ Chapter One: Hanging by a Thread, Feeling Like a Fool _

_Dad’s dead._

The thought still hasn’t quite sunk in yet; he’s not sure if it ever truly will. It all feels so incredibly surreal – being here, in Andromeda, 600 years in the future, surrounded by a terrifying array of dark energy, not-so-golden worlds, his sister in a coma… and his father, dead.

Oh, and himself as the Pathfinder now.

It’s a lot to take in, in ten hours. Ten hours ago he was freshly thawed from cryo, sipping a cup of coffee and excited to see Sara when she woke, and start their new lives in a new galaxy. Then everything immediately went to hell; Habitat 7 was _not_ a golden world, it was _not_ viable. Alec Ryder was a _stubborn_ man who wouldn’t _listen_ to the captain of the Ark Hyperion, and decided to lead a team down to the surface anyway, despite their initial scans revealing that it was _not_ habitable, despite their broken sensors.

As if that’s not enough: Alec Ryder _died_ , sacrificing himself for his son, and he pushed that AI right into his son’s head like that was the fucking plan all along, and it _wasn’t_. It was _never_ the plan. Cora is supposed to take over as Pathfinder, in the event something happens to Alec Ryder. _Cora_ , not Scott. Cora has trained for this; Scott is a glorified bodyguard with little to no leadership training, or AI compatibility comparisons, or – _anything_. He is not qualified, and yet…

And _yet_.

Alec Ryder transferred SAM into Scott with his dying breaths, instead of allowing SAM to transfer to Cora as he – _it_ – naturally would have. And now Scott has an AI in his brain, sharing his thoughts, speaking to him privately and making him _jump out of his skin_ , and he’s not sure what to do or think about this, because _it’s all insane_.

He didn’t ask for any of this. His father is dead. His sister’s in a coma. Habitat 7 isn’t home.

Everything is a mess, and despite him _literally being thrown into this position not even a fucking day ago_ , everyone is asking him what they should do next. Everyone is calling him _Pathfinder_ , like he knows the answers. They’re on their way to the Nexus now; hopefully the other arks have already arrived and they can sort out this mess quickly, and with help. When they get to the Nexus, Captain Dunn expects him to take charge as Pathfinder, and _help them find a home_ , and that is _not his job_. That has _never_ been his job. That was _his father’s_ job. That’s _Cora’s_ job.

 _Now it’s mine,_ he thinks, and it still doesn’t feel real.

 ** _You are in shock,_** SAM says through their private channel. The words echo through his head and he blinks back the shock at the sudden words, and reels in the instinct to spin around for the source, because it’s _in his head_. It’s all in his head. SAM is in his head. **_I am not all-knowing, if that is what worries you. I cannot see all of your thoughts or memories. Only what you allow me to see. I will not intrude where you do not wish me to be, Pathfinder._**

 _I’m not the Pathfinder._ He’s not the Pathfinder. He can’t be the Pathfinder. That’s too much pressure, because that’s just – it’s too much. He’s not ready. He’s not prepared. Why did his dad think this was a good idea? He hasn’t trained for this. He has no idea what he’s doing.

**_Pathfinder – Scott, calm down. Breathe._ **

It’s impossible to have a panic attack because SAM literally won’t let him have one, but it gets close anyway. SAM doesn’t want to overstep his – its – boundaries, but he – it – can’t let Scott break down, either. For a moment he can’t breathe – his lungs are tight, steel coils encircling them, and there’s not enough air in this room. The next second, his lungs expand as he breathes in, and deflate as he exhales, once, twice, three times – and he can breathe again.

 ** _Alec would not have chosen you for this job if he did not think you qualified,_** SAM tells him. **_And you are not alone; I am here to assist you. The Pathfinder and the SAMs were always designed to work together, symbiotically. You need not do this alone._**

The words – are comforting, in a way. He can breathe. He focuses on that, and SAM’s voice, though semi-robotic it is, and finds his tense muscles finally starting to relax. He’s alone in the Pathfinder’s quarters – _his_ quarters now, he supposes – and is surrounded by his father’s things, which is what prompted the surge of emotion in the first place. All he wants to do is sleep, and he’s surrounded by reminders that everything has gone wrong, and he isn’t enough. He won’t be enough. He’s not what they need; he’s not what anyone needs.

_I wish Sara was here._

But Sara’s unconscious, and no one knows when she’ll wake up. It could be in a few days, a few months – _years_. The thought threatens to drag him into a dark void filled with steel coils aching to wrap around his lungs, but he narrowly avoids slipping into it. He’s not sure if he saved himself by pushing the thoughts away and focusing only on the bed, or if SAM is still trying to help. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

He lays on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and tries not to think about how alone he is.

 ** _I am here,_** SAM assures him.

_I know. How… How is that? For you? Transferring, I mean?_

SAM is an AI, after all; he – it – has his own thoughts and feelings, so how has this experience been for him? Not traumatic, Scott guesses; he doesn’t think his father would have designed SAM to become emotionally compromised. Those were human flaws, after all.

**_It is what it is. I was designed to transfer when it was time, and your father’s time came sooner than expected. As I learned with him, I will now learn with you._ **

Scott snorts. _So, he kept you at a distance too, huh? Even when you shared a head._

Alec Ryder was a complicated man. A dedicated, focused, brilliant man – a scientist, an explorer, a Pathfinder. An N7. Those were his more noticeable achievements. The ones he worked hard for, and seemed to cherish.

And then there were his other titles.

Father.

Husband.

Alec Ryder was a complicated man. He threw himself whole-heartedly into his research and work, but when he looked up from the screens, his kids were already grown and his wife was sick. By the time he paid attention, it was too late.

A part of Scott – _a very tiny part_ – will probably never forgive him for that. Will never forgive it because he can’t forget. He can’t forget all the nights he sat in the living room, waiting for his father to finally come home so he could tell his dad everything about his day, or just hang out with him for once. He’d stay up as late as he could, then fall asleep on the couch and wake up in his bed the next morning, having been carried there. Or, his father _would_ come home, and Scott would jump up and excitedly tell him about his classes at school, or a movie he wanted to see, or anything, and Alec Ryder would say ‘that’s nice, son’ and push past him without even slowing down.

Eventually, Scott stopped trying. He stopped trying to get his father to notice him. He stopped trying to get his approval. He just stopped trying.

 ** _Your father was a complicated man,_** SAM says, interrupting his thoughts.

Scott closes his eyes with a ragged laugh. “Yeah. He definitely was.”

xXx

He sleeps, but it is not pleasant.

He dreams.

His father’s dying in front of him. He can’t breathe. Why does he have his helmet…

The mountains are floating.

He wakes gasping for breath every half hour, covered in a cold sweat, and tears burning his eyes.

He turns onto his stomach, buries his face in his pillow, and cries.

He cries for the loss of Habitat 7. He cries for the loss of his father. He cries for the loss of his sister. He cries for the loss of all that time they drifted, asleep.

Sara’s in a coma; what if she doesn’t wake up?

His father is dead, and he’s never coming back. He’s gone just like their mom.

They came to this galaxy for a fresh start, to reunite and reconnect and regroup – and now they’ll never get the chance.

And _everyone_ is counting on him.

_I’m going to fail you all._

SAM stays quiet.

Scott tries to get back to sleep.

xXx

**_So that was… crying._ **

Scott looks skyward, counts to three, then sighs and looks back down at his coffee. “Yes, SAM.”

**_I have been there when your father cried, but I did not pick up the same feelings as I did with you. I am confused. Perhaps you could clarify?_ **

He sighs again. _Sure, SAM._

**_You were angry, as well as sad._ **

_I was upset, yeah. And frustrated._

**_Your father… ‘was upset’ differently. You had feelings of inadequacy. Of failure._ **

Oh, boy. _Yeah, SAM. Thanks. I got it._ He really doesn’t need to relive last night.

**_… You are not inadequate. Your father never would have given you his legacy if you were. The Pathfinder legacy was always meant to go to a Ryder._ **

It’s too much, and he’s not emotionally prepared for any of this. He’s always been emotional, to the point Sara jokes he’s the girl instead of her, but he can’t help himself: He feels things deeply, and when things are too much, he has a tendency to explode. It’s why he likes combat. It’s why he _got out of_ combat. He liked fighting too much, and worried about what it was making him. So he joined the peacekeeping line, protecting Sara and her group at her dig sites for a time. Much less shooting that way, and all in the need to _protect his sister_ , so he never missed. He never hesitated.

At the moment, though, his sister is in a coma, and there’s no protecting her from that.

 _Then why train Cora,_ he asks SAM, _if he never meant for it to go to her? Why all the secrecy?_ A thought occurs to him, a knot churning heavily in his stomach. He might be sick. _It was never meant for me, was it. He wanted Sara to have it, but… he got stuck with me._

Sara was always closer to their father than he was. She was too forgiving. Too forgiving of long nights waiting for their father to come home, of waiting for him to look up from his research to notice they existed. She always forgive him, for everything, and left Scott floundering in his indecision and reluctance.

 ** _I was always meant to go to a Ryder,_** SAM repeats unhelpfully.

Scott sighs, finishing his coffee. “Yeah. Thanks, SAM.”

He rinses out his empty cup in the sink, and then leaves the kitchen area. It’s early, and everyone must still be asleep because they haven’t asked for his location yet, and he wonders if he’s ever going to get used to _that_ , to people wanting to know where he is all the time, to people tracking his every movement, to people _needing_ him.

A fleeting part of his mind wonders: _has anyone ever needed me like I need them…_

He doesn’t give it time to develop, because that’s a nasty road to go down, and right now the thousands of people aboard this ship need him level-headed and ready for action, not halfway to an emotional meltdown.

So he returns to his father’s – _his_ – quarters, showers and dresses, and then heads out to meet Captain Dunn bright and early, with a smile on his face and confidence in his steps.

xXx

The Nexus looks beautiful in space. It reminds him of the Citadel back home – a large space station filled with its own bustling city, complete with apartments, plants, buildings and lights. It’s not nearly as big as the Citadel, designed to house only a mere fraction of the numbers typically seen on the Citadel, but it is inspiring in its own right. Scott’s always been a fan of architect, especially for space stations.

He is supposed to enter the Nexus alone, since he’s the Pathfinder, but in the end he brings Liam and Cora with him just to be safe, since they are still only getting automatic responses to their hails, instead of actual people like it should be. The platform they step off the ship onto is dark and quiet; this area looks almost untouched. Unused, dark, dormant – all things it shouldn’t be.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up. _Something’s not right_.

They continue forward, down a set of steps. A lone figure works on a panel across the room; Scott calls out to them, and they startle, immediately standing to face them.

“You’re a… _Pathfinder_?” the startled salarian says after a brief moment of introductions. “You mean – one finally arrived?”

“What do you mean _finally arrived_?” Scott asks, confused. “Aren’t the other arks here?”

They were thrown off course because of the dark energy in space – the gnarled mess of purples, blacks, and blues they hit which left his sister’s revival process interrupted, and now she is in a coma, and Alec Ryder is dead. The Nexus seems safe from the dark energy for the time being, at least. But perhaps, while the Ark Hyperion was delayed due to the energy, the other arks were as well.

“You’re the first one I’ve seen,” the salarian tells him, brushing the dirt from the front of his clothes. He’s staring at Scott in awe, blinking slowly. “We thought none of you were coming. You’re fourteen months off schedule; we lost hope.”

Scott doesn’t know what to say. “We got lost,” he jokes somewhat nervously, shrugging helplessly as he rubs at the back of his neck. Liam groans behind him, but says nothing helpful. The salarian stares at him for a brief moment, before he turns to walk away.

“Follow me,” he says. “Director Tann will want to see you.”

xXx

Director Tann is another salarian with blue-ish skin instead of purple. He talks fast and succinctly most of the time, except for when he decides to enunciate clearly and speak to Scott as though he is a child. He has a strong personality, and Scott immediately knows they are going to be clashing quite a bit. If Tann is upset that he’s here instead of his father, he doesn’t dwell on it long; he moves right past that topic and into murkier waters.

The other arks are missing. Salarian, turkian, asari – all missing. No one knows where they are, if they even made it to Andromeda.

Jien Garson, the figurehead of the Initiative, died tragically during the ‘Scourge Event’. The Scourge is the name they have given to the gnarled mass of dark energy weaving through Andromeda. Jien Garson’s whole team died, leaving Tann in charge in their wake. Many seem to disagree with Tann and his policies; others just try to stay out of his way. He rules the Nexus with select few others: Addison, who already seems to hate Scott for reasons he can’t really fathom right now; Kesh, a krogan who is pretty blunt about absolutely everything, and Scott likes her honesty more than he likes the dark scowls from Addison or the insincere niceties of Tann; and Tiran Kandros, the turian in charge of security and defense.

They brought krogans from the Milky Way, but apparently there was an uprising during the arks’ absences, and the krogan left afterward. Many others, of all races, were exiled for their mutiny. The numbers left aboard the Nexus are few and failing: they cannot keep this up. They need a solution. They need a miracle.

Scott informs them of what he saw his father do on Habitat 7, just prior to his death. In that one, small moment of victory, Alec Ryder did the impossible: he altered the atmosphere, and weather, of the planet. The storms and random lightning stopped; the sky cleared. And then the console from which he fixed the weather – exploded. He and Scott were sent flying.

Only Scott came back alive.

Many tell him they’re sorry for his loss: Alec Ryder was a great man, and he will be missed. Now they are stuck with Scott as the Pathfinder, and though none of them say it outright, he knows they are all judging him: how can he ever compare to the famous – _or infamous, depending who you ask_ – Alec Ryder?

Scott has little desire to continue speaking with everyone; his mind is already spinning with the implications of all he’s heard. Right now, he’s the only Pathfinder they have, and they have just charged him with finding a home for _everyone_ , not just the humans. _Everyone_. If he can’t find a habitable world soon – everyone is going to starve. They don’t have enough supplies to keep going like this. They need a Pathfinder now more than ever, and he’s all they have, with his father gone and the other arks missing.

A part of him wants to tell SAM to disconnect – find another Pathfinder.

That same part of him knows that SAM’s in too deep for him to just pull out now; they said as much when he first woke. If they try to remove SAM, it could very likely kill him. At the very least, brain damage, they told him; it’s too risky to remove SAM without irreversibly damaging him, or killing him.

Another part whispers that’s okay: they need a Pathfinder more than they need Scott Ryder, and he is no Pathfinder. He’s never been a Pathfinder. He’s never _wanted_ to be Pathfinder.

**_Nevertheless, you are the Pathfinder, Scott. Obsessing over this detail can only lead to further discontent._ **

It’s a struggle not to flinch every time SAM speaks in his mind. Or, _their_ mind, he supposes. _I don’t know how to be Pathfinder,_ he tells SAM, privately, all too aware of the eyes watching his every move.

**_I will help you. You are not alone._ **

He’s grateful for the assistance, grateful for the help – but SAM is an AI and while he is sentient and capable of his own thought-processes, Scott’s pretty sure he can’t _feel_. He doesn’t understand what Scott is feeling, what he’s going through – so he can’t properly help. The offer speaks volumes, but it’s an empty promise.

Empty promises are for the hopeless.

He’s not ready to give up yet.

xXx

They give him a ship, and send him off to the Pythos system, specifically the planet Eos and their failed attempts at establishing an outpost, not once, but twice. His new, shiny ship, the _Tempest_ , reminds him of the ships back home, but with a few upgrades. His quarters – the _Pathfinder’s_ quarters – are directly under the control room and pilot deck; he’ll be ready in a moment’s notice if need be. The kitchen is small, but he doubts many people will be eating at the small table offered by the room; they will most likely take their meals to go. The engineering area is large for a ship this size – the _Tempest_ is smaller than a lot of ships back home, built for exploration and small units rather than a massive crew. It’s quick, stealthy, and quiet – just how Scott likes them.

On their way to Eos, Scott spends the majority of time going through his vast amount of emails. Word is beginning to spread that there is a Pathfinder finally here, and many are reaching out to him. Many send condolences about his father. He’s not sure how to feel about that; how many of them actually knew Alec Ryder? Because he’s not sure if he really knew the man at all, especially at the end. What was going through his dying mind to make his son the Pathfinder instead of Cora?

Speaking of Cora, she’s bitter that Scott’s the new Pathfinder instead of her, and rightfully so. She trained so hard for that position – she was _ready_ for that position, and Alec handed it over to Scott without any prior training or compatibility tests. She said he must have had a reason for doing what he did, though; she won’t argue with Alec’s choice, even if she’s confused and _hurt_ by it. She looked up to Alec Ryder, more than Scott ever did – and in the end, he turned her away just like everyone else.

According to SAM, the AI was always meant to transfer to a Ryder, not Cora. Scott keeps this information to himself. There’s no need to hurt Cora more than he already has.

His thoughts, as always, travel toward his sister. He has no idea how to tell her their father is dead, when she wakes. He tries to come up with words, but ultimately fails because anything he could say feels wrong. Sara was closer to Alec than him.

It should be Sara here, as the Pathfinder, and Scott in the coma. Their roles should be switched, and yet here he stands.

He pushes the indecision and doubts away.

When he steps out of his quarters for the first time since they left the Nexus, there’s a smile firmly in place.

xXx

He has no idea where Liam got the couch. He’s not going to ask.

He helps Liam maneuver the couch into his little hidey-hole. It’s a ragged looking thing, patched together with mismatching patterns, but it _is_ comfortable.

Liam is all for the Initiative; he came her because he truly believed in it. He left behind family and friends, but he truly believes it’s all for the best. It’s hard for him, accepting that they’re dead.

“It just doesn’t feel real, you know?” he says almost sadly, looking away as they sit together on the tattered old couch.

Scott nods. “I feel the same. We’re 600 years in the future; everyone we knew is dead. It’s… tough, but we knew that going in. We knew that before they put us under. We knew what we’d be waking up to.”

“Yeah, we knew,” Liam agrees with a sigh. “Still doesn’t make it any easier.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Look at me complaining, though – you’ve got it worse than me.”

“How’s that?” Scott asks, frowning.

“Well, your dad just died, your sister’s in a coma, and you weren’t trained for this whole Pathfinder thing, were you?”

Scott swallows. _Is it that obvious?_ “No, I wasn’t.”

“How are you?”

Scott pauses, not because he doesn’t know what to say, but because that’s the _first time_ anyone has asked him that since he woke from cryo and his father died. _How are you._ Such a simple question, and yet not a soul asked. Lexi inquired about his physical health, but not one person asked about his mental or emotional health.

 _How am I? I’m fucked up every way you can imagine, I’m scared out of my mind, and ultimately I don’t think I can do this._ That’s what he wants to say. It’s how he feels.

What he actually says is, “I’m fine.”

“Just… fine?” Liam asks skeptically, and honestly, Scott could kiss him right then for seeing through the bullshit. “After all that – you’re just fine?”

“I’m… okay,” Scott says, and then scowls. “Okay, I’m _not_ fine, but – I need to be fine. Everyone needs me to be fine. So I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” Liam says slowly, eying him. “And was that supposed to make sense?”

“Probably not. Me and sense don’t get along very well.”

Liam chuckles faintly. “Right. Well – good luck with that, Pathfinder.”

Scott’s smile falters briefly. “Right. Yeah, I will. See you around, Liam. We should be arriving at Eos soon.”

He leaves Liam there on his couch, and scurries back to his room. Sanctuary. Safety. The enormity of the situation threatens to consume him, and he can’t breathe. SAM takes care of that; it only takes a few seconds before his lungs work properly again, and he’s dragging in deep gulps of air like he’s been starved of it.

“I can’t do this,” he mutters under his breath, rubbing at the grit in his eyes. That dark, hopeless feeling threatens to drown him. “I can’t do this. _Fuck_. I’m a peacekeeper, a glorified guard, I’m not a fucking _Pathfinder_.”

**_Scott, please calm down. You can do this. Your father would not have placed this upon you if he thought you weren’t right for the job._ **

“You don’t know that. He was dying. He was – emotionally compromised. And emotionally compromised people make mistakes.”

**_Scott._ **

“It was a mistake.”

**_SCOTT._ **

He swallowed, and felt the headache throbbing behind his eyes, but turned toward the blue orb in his room, even though he knew SAM was always with him, in his head. It was nice to have something physically to look at and ground himself with.

 ** _You are not a mistake._** SAM’s voice is so certain.

He exhales loudly. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, okay. We got this, right?”

 ** _I am with you,_** SAM replies.

xXx

Eos is a radioactive desert world. It’s hot, and too much time in the radiation leaves the body shutting down. They have to be careful as they travel through the desert, looking for the lost remnants of the old outposts, sites one and two. During their investigation, they meet a man named Clancy, who tells them about a strange signal. Initial readings reveal it is similar to the ones they found on Habitat 7, and Scott shoves the memories of that fateful day away.

They travel toward where the signal is originating from, using the Nomad, a scout rover, for travel. Scott’s never driven one of these before, and they can be hard to control; he turns too sharply more than once, flinging his teammates against the side of the vehicle, and he crashes over rocks too many times to count, but they make it to their desired location in one piece.

“Who taught you how to drive?” Liam complains as they exit the vehicle.

“Hey,” Scott says, tossing him a scowl, “no backseat driving.”

“I’m with Liam,” Cora says, rubbing her head. “I wacked my head on something.”

“Yeah – my knee,” Liam said, before smirking. “What was your head doing down there, hmm?”

“Oh, please,” Cora says, rolling her eyes. “Can we get on with this already? This place gives me the creeps.”

If Scott’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t like it any more than she does. There’s something… _strange_ , about this place. His hair stands on end. He’s being watched, he can feel it.

 _SAM,_ he thinks.

 ** _Already scanning, Pathfinder,_** SAM responds.

Scott releases a breath, relieved SAM already knew what he was thinking. He steps toward the strange alien console which seems to be emanating the strange signal. He’s not sure why he lifts his hand; he knows nothing about this console, nothing about how to interact with it. Maybe he’s running on pure instinct, or maybe he remembers how his dad simply lifted his hand to interact with that thing back on Habitat 7. He’s not sure. But he lifts his hand.

“Stop!” a voice shouts, and he flinches away from the console.

 ** _Pathfinder, behind you,_** SAM warns as he hears footfalls behind him. He has just enough time to turn around before he’s crashed into and he’s tackled to the ground.

His head connects with a painful thud, and for a second he sees stars, but registers the weight settled on his stomach. Someone is sitting on him. He blinks his vision back to focus and sees an asari sitting on top of him, smirking down at him, a dark streak across her hazel-green eyes.

“Alright,” he says, quirking a brow. “This is new. Wanna get off now?”

“Mm, nah,” the asari says, still smirking. “I like you like this.”

“Back off,” Liam says, gun trained on her. Cora also has her gun pointed at the asari, though she’s standing a little further back.

 _Well,_ Scott thinks as the asari shifts her weight enough to glance over her shoulder at the two, _at least they’re trying to protect me._

If this was a real attack he’d already be dead, but, hey, it’s the thought that counts.

“You can get off now,” Scott says.

The asari rolls off. “Don’t like being bottom?”

“I am the best bottom,” Scott throws back on impulse. “But you sitting on my rib isn’t exactly comfortable.”

The asari laughs.

“Who are you?” Scott asks, because names are kind of important.

“Peebee.”

“… Peebee? That short for something?”

“My name is Peebee. Short and sweet.”

“Just like you?” he asks, smirking.

She _grins_. “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me. Easy, tiger.”

“Achem,” Liam says. “What are you doing here?”

xXx

 _Great,_ Scott thinks. _More robots_.

Peebee explained to him that there is Remnant technology – or, rem-tech as she’s calling it – on a variety of planets, and she’s been studying it. For some reason, the kett – the shoot-first aliens they met on Habitat 7 – are interesting in the technology, though she can’t understand why just yet. She sounds excited about the whole subject; eager to learn more. Scott feels a pang of longing from his younger days.

 ** _You are only 22,_** SAM reminds him.

 _Give or take 600 years,_ he mentally replies. _And I haven’t been that into research in a long time._

He used to love research. Then they put him in charge of security at an Alliance post watching a mass effect relay. There was no time for research when he was fighting off pirates and scavengers. He never enjoyed security; he never enjoyed handling guns, but it was the only time his father smiled at him like that – like he was _proud_. Finally proud. And Scott stopped caring about that a long time ago – but Sara thought they were finally getting along, and he couldn’t take that away from her. So he stayed. He died a little inside every day, but he stayed.

Peebee is all that enthusiasm he used to have, and it makes him miss the old days. The better days. Back when his mother was still alive. Fuck, he misses her. He misses her so much. What would she think of Alec Ryder’s legacy now? What would she think of her son?

 _She’d tell you to keep going,_ he thinks. _When your back’s against the wall, you keep going._

 ** _Your mother was an amazing woman,_** SAM tells him.

He’s oddly touched. _Thank you, SAM._

He doesn’t ask how SAM knows that. At that moment, it doesn’t matter.

xXx

There’s a vault on Eos.

Honestly, nothing should surprise him anymore, but somehow things still manage to do so. Even SAM’s dry, flat robotic tone is starting to become familiar, and he’s not sure how to feel about that.

There’s a vault on Eos, and he doesn’t entirely know what it does. He can theorize – they activated monoliths to get here, and the readings and signals are similar to what they saw on Habitat 7, so it only stands to reason that this vault has something to do with the climate, the atmosphere, and weather of this planet. Perhaps this is a whole new of terraforming – faster, more efficient, using old, forgotten technology. There’s a reason they’re called Remnant, after all.

Entering the vault is terrifying. He kicks a rock into the open shaft – it levitates. A gravity pool. Peebee is the first to jump in, and he jumps after her. He’s not sure why. If she’s falling, there’s no saving her like this. Maybe he wants to protect her. Maybe he feels she’s his responsibility.

Or maybe he’s caught up in her genuine excitement, and he feels adrenaline course through his body for different reasons than he’s used to these days – not because of fear or the threat of death, but because there’s something to _learn_ and he’s _excited_ about that.

He’s always been a nerd at heart, according to Sara. He wishes she were here. She likes this stuff too, though she doesn’t gush about it as openly as him. She’s a secret nerd, not out about it like him.

The gravity well drags them down, slowly, gently. They land far below, where light trickles through only faintly. Gradually the area lights up; he’s not sure if the lights are movement sensitive, or if SAM is somehow doing this. He doesn’t really care right now. He’s too busy looking around in awe, and then he realizes Peebee is missing.

She’s on an upper platform, and says she’s going to look around. She’ll meet up with them soon.

“Hey – don’t do anything reckless!” he calls after her, but she’s already gone. He sighs, and turns back to Liam and Cora. They look decidedly less thrilled to be here.

“What is this, Ryder?” Liam asks, looking around in a slow circle, brown eyes wide as he takes everything in. Cora is looking around as well, with cool professionalism. She trained with asari huntresses, Scott remembers: of course this doesn’t exactly phase her. She doesn’t look happy to be here, but she’s not outwardly showing her concern, either. He wonders, vaguely, when he started to be able to read her so well.

**_I can filter data directly into your head, Pathfinder._ **

He nearly jumps at the voice, distracting him from looking around. _Warn a guy! Fuck, you’re gonna give me heart attack._

**_I can attempt resuscitation, if necessary._ **

_Sarcasm, SAM. Not a literal heart attack. Anyway – what? You’re giving me this information? But it feels like my own thoughts…_

**_Our minds are connected. What you see, I see. What I learn, you learn.  It is a symbiotic relationship – we improve each other._ **

The thought is – disturbing more than it is comforting, but he can’t think about that right now. Having a near-panic attack – because SAM won’t let him have an actual one – right now just isn’t an option.

Thankfully – when it comes to high-stress situations, Scott has always been good at compartmentalizing. It’s afterward, when he’s safe and has time to sit down and think ( _dwell_ ) that he breaks down. But he’ll worry about that later.

He finds another console, and interfaces with SAM’s help. It becomes more natural the more he does it. This console leads down a dark hallway, and across platforms they have to use their jump-jets to cross, but in the end they make it to yet another console. Which leads to another console…

 _It’s a puzzle,_ Scott realizes.

It’s all a giant puzzle.

They slowly put the pieces back together – rebuild _whatever this is_.

They’re attacked by – something. Remnant, Peebee called them. Breachers, assemblers, etc. At first they just hover in place, or walk around on their strange robotic legs – but then when they get close enough, they immediately turn on Scott and his team. They have no choice but to fire back – Scott can’t help but wonder if this will upset whatever balance there is in this place.

It doesn’t.

They make it to another console. Peebee is nearby, talking on the comms; she’s had to deal with her own share of baddies, and she sounds exhilarated.

This console seems to be the last one. Scott raises his hand. Interfaces.

At first, nothing happens.

Then all hell fucking breaks loose.

xXx

Scott’s never run so hard in his life. His heart is pounding loudly in his chest and SAM is telling him to hurry while simultaneously giving him a countdown until he’s _swallowed by that dark cloud of what the fuck_.

He runs. Liam and Cora are ahead of him, near the entrance. Peebee is – somewhere. He’s not sure where she is and right now he can’t look for her. He hears her on the comms; she’s coming. She’s hurrying. She’s trying.

_Will she make it?_

She has to make it. They all have to make it out of here. If they don’t – it’s all his fault. He got them into this. He’s the Pathfinder – he’s supposed to get them out of this.

And if they die down here, who is SAM supposed to transfer to? Cora is down here with him. He realizes his mistake too late. If Cora is here with him, then who is SAM going to safely transfer to, should something happen to him? He can’t bring Cora with him anymore, he tells himself. If they get out of this, that is.

The gravity well is nearby. He runs. He’s not sure why he thinks this will help – he can feel the energy storm on his heels, chasing him, disintegrating everything in its path, and he can’t outrun _air_. Even if he gets to the gravity well, what then? Will it suck them back up? Will it be too slow? It was slow coming down, he remembers. Slow and gentle. Not quick and evading.

Instinct prompts him to turn around. There’s something…

Peebee is just behind him, struggling to catch up. There’s a fear in her eyes he hates to see – she’s looking at him for help, even if she seemed so confident before. She staggers, tripping over herself. He slows, helps her, drags her forward – throws him in front of himself because if he can’t make it maybe they all can, and-

His hand slams down on the console, again out of instinct rather than rational thought.

The gust is upon them. Dark and purple and consuming.

And then – it’s not.

It retreats, as suddenly as it started. It’s gone. Just like that. They’re safe.

They’re all still breathing hard.

And then Peebee laughs.

xXx

The vault on Eos is turned on again – somehow – and is working. Already the air feels different, and initial readings reveal the radiation levels are decreasing. It will take time before they return to safe levels, but it proves these vaults can truly help these planets, and his father didn’t die for nothing.

They can start an outpost here, again. Maybe this time it will succeed. This time, they have a chance.

This time, they have a Pathfinder.

 

****


	2. Try to Find My Face Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott tries - and fails - to sleep. SAM may or may not be learning sarcasm. And everyone is an asshole for keeping things from Scott.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing with the timeline. In the game, everyone's all "omg a new species, what" when you meet the Angara for the first time on Aya, after escaping the Archon for the first time. Okay. Sure. But like - there are angara on Elaaden and Kadara - how does no one know. Seriously. I know they don't talk to the exiles or the krogan much, but like - I know for a fact Kesh talks to Drack, and word of a new species is a pretty big deal. I'm sure Drack has dealt with them on Elaaden before. And Vetra and Drack work together a lot, and she's a smuggler who's done some jobs on Kadara - and hello, there are angara on Kadara, so - someone could have mentioned it. 
> 
> So. Things are happening a little differently here because seriously - what's with all the secrecy, everyone? Not one of you could have informed the Pathfinder? Or SAM? Seriously? Lexi, Cora and Liam I forgive - they were in cryo with Scott. But the others have absolutely no excuse. 
> 
> Also, side note: So Back Against the Wall is Scott's song. It fits. And Shake Me Down is Reyes'. Just thought I'd say that >.> I don't know if I'm going to go into Reyes' POV or not. We'll see how it goes. 
> 
> And holy fuck! I was not expecting bookmarks and kudos and everything so quickly. Thanks, guys. Happy you're reading this/enjoying it. Comments, as always, are love! <3

_ Chapter Two: Try to Find My Face Again _

 

“Again.”

**_“Pathfinder, I do not see the significance of-”_ **

“I said _again_ , SAM.”

The AI says nothing further, but Scott’s biotics flare to life. There’s a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he inhales sharply through his nose, exhaling through his mouth. The blue glow around him is reassuring; he brings a hand up, curls it into a fist, and smiles to himself as the blue glow follows his movements.

He’s never liked guns.

Biotics, though – biotics he can do. He’s trained as a vanguard, a scrapper, whatever you want to call it. If he has to fight, he’ll charge in and take care of it quickly. It’s how he did things back in the Milky Way, and so far things seem to be turning out okay here, too. If he just remembers to breathe, and focuses on his training and abilities rather than the fact he is not at all qualified to be Pathfinder. If he just focuses on the here and now and not the pressure of the future, he’ll be okay. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

So far – he’s had mixed results in believing it.

“Again, SAM.”

The biotics flare to life once more. He’s starting to realize when he wills it to happen, and when SAM causes it to happen by enhancing his abilities, jump-starting his biotics before he himself can do so. It might come in handy in a fight if SAM notices something before he does, or reacts quicker, but honestly it just worries him. If SAM can make him flare up without meaning to – what else can he do? How deep is he in his system?

He tries not to think about it. SAM assures him he is there to help, not harm. He will not harm Scott, he has told him repeatedly. They share a mutually beneficial relationship just as they are; he will not harm their growing bond.

_Bond._

Sometimes, late at night, Scott swears he can feel SAM moving around in his head – rifling through his thoughts, memories, anything accessible. He feels like a filing cabinet with half the cabinets locked, and SAM’s searching for the key. He knows he can’t feel anything moving in his head – it’s all in his head, it’s all just thoughts – but he _swears_ he can feel it. He swears he feels something, late at night, when SAM’s curiosity gets the best of him.

Half the time, Scott can _understand_ what the AI wants to know – he realizes what memories, or thoughts, SAM wishes to see, without the AI having to ask him. It leaves tendrils of dread curling around his spine at the mere thought, but he nevertheless gives in. As he does, he can’t help but have the flickering thought: _what if I’m not the one letting him in… what if I just think it’s me… what if he’s actually letting himself in…_

He doesn’t ask about this. SAM doesn’t bring it up, either.

Their bond is growing – SAM is learning. SAM learns from Scott, and Scott learns from SAM, and if he thinks about their symbiotic relationship too much his head is going to explode.

So he tries not to think about it.

That doesn’t mean he’s not going to train with it, though.

“Again.”

**_I fail to see how this aids you._ **

“It just does,” Scott says with a sigh, running a hand through his sweat-damped, slicked back hair. “Again.”

This time when the biotics flare up, he’s more prepared for the surge: he gives into it, throws himself into the adrenaline, and the barrier he creates is _massive_. Larger than he’s ever managed to make on his own before. It startles him so much he loses concentration and the barrier falls. He exhales loudly.

“Again.”

xXx

Vetra Nyx is a turian smuggler, so it’s to be expected that she has… unsavory contacts. Most of the time, Scott can ignore this. Not so, when he walks in on her having a shady conversation. She turns to him like nothing is wrong, but something tells him her mandibles are tensely set, flexing sporadically like she’s hiding something. And that something telling him this is SAM. It’s getting easier to realize this.

He’s not sure if that makes it better or worse. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

“Problems?” he asks, quirking a brow as he leans against the doorframe. It looks natural and casual, but honestly he’s tired from training with SAM all morning, and he didn’t sleep well last night. Or the night before. Or all week. All month. Fuck, he’s tired.

“None that I can’t handle,” Vetra replies in her usual vibrating voice. At least that’s the term that comes to mind: vibrating. Like she has two sets of vocal chords clashing together. It’s a harmonious sound. “Did you need something, Ryder? Need someone shot?”

There’s a hopeful lilt to her voice at that one. She was a little irritated at being left on the ship when they went down to Eos, considering she helped them secure this ship in the first place, getting them past all the red tape. She then insisted on joining them, and honestly, Scott can’t tell someone that tall _no_.

He’s taken her with him on a few skirmishes across Eos, but nothing big. She’s itching for action.

To be honest, so is he.

He’s not sure how to feel about that. He doesn’t like violence. He doesn’t like guns. He likes training with his biotics, but he’s never itched for a fight like this before. Is it him itching for a fight, fueled with extra adrenaline and no outlet, or is it SAM that wants a fight? Can the AI want a fight? What does he get out of the fighting experience, via Scott’s mind?

Now he’s thinking about it too much, and his head hurts.

 ** _That is all you,_** SAM tells him, sensing his worry more acutely than anyone else ever could or would. **_You are ‘antsy’, I believe the term is._**

 _But why?_ He wonders, because he’s never been like that before.

**_I cannot say. Perhaps you like the action._ **

He winces unintentionally.

“What?” Vetra asks, frowning at him, as much as a turian can frown, anyway.

“Nothing,” Scott says, shaking his head. “Just… thought of something I didn’t agree with.”

“The AI, huh?” Vetra asks, inclining her head somewhat. “What’s that like? Having a second voice in your head, I mean. Sharing a brain.”

“It’s… different.”

“Well, I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

He shrugs. It’s the best he has.

It doesn’t matter what it’s like, because he’s stuck with it. He needs to learn to live with it. Maybe one day he’ll be okay with that, but today is not that day.

“Do you need anything?” he asks Vetra, changing the subject.

She shakes her head. “No, I’m all good, Pathfinder.”

“And… what I heard when I walked in…”

“It was nothing,” she says, shaking her head.

“Alright. I’ll let you get back to work, then.”

She nods at him in farewell, and he turns to take his leave from her little nook next to Liam’s, beneath the main engineering area.

As he’s leaving her room, he nearly crashes straight into Gil Brodie, the engineer aboard the _Tempest_ , with the reddish hair and darker skin.

He’s not entirely sure how that hasn’t happened yet, but here they are: both reaching for each other to keep the other from falling even as they lose their own balance. The image would be hilarious if Scott could stop to laugh at it, but right now he’s busy trying not to fall right the fuck over because _ouch_ , Gil has a hard fucking head and they could use him in battle, fling him at people, or-

“Pathfinder,” Gil says, smirking at him as they find their footing, hands on each other’s arms. “Good to finally see you. Meet you, I mean. I’ve seen you scurrying around.”

“I don’t scurry,” Scott mutters with a huff of breath. He releases Gil and nods at him. “Nice to meet you too. Gil Brodie, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“I’ve heard you’re keeping this baby going.”

“The ship?” Gil smiles, wide and sincere. “Yeah, she’s a beauty, isn’t she? I love fixing her up.”

“That’s not how Kallo puts it,” Scott says, because the _Tempest’s_ pilot has a very different story involving Gil’s duties aboard the ship. Scott asked about it, but Kallo just waved him off and said it was nothing. He can’t _make_ him talk, can he?

 ** _You are the Pathfinder, and they are your crew,_** SAM says. **_You could technically order him to talk._**

_Yeah, not going to do that, SAM. Thanks, though. I’ll uh… keep that in mind._

“What do you think about Kallo?” Scott asks.

“He’s a pilot.”

“Which means…?”

Gil stares at him. “He flies the ship…”

Scott groans. “Alright. Fine. Yeah, that’s what a pilot does. Thank you, for summing that up for me. I never would have guessed.”

Gil chuckles. “You’re rambling.”

“I am not.”

“You _are_ , actually.”

“Rambling is without a purpose or point, and I have a fucking point, thank you very much,” Scott huffs, jabbing the tip of his index finger into Gil’s shoulder. Gil laughs this time, throwing his head back and everything, and no – Scott is not that funny.

“What’s your point, then?” Gil asks, folding his arms smugly across his chest.

Scott glowers at him under his eyelashes for a few seconds. It’s not as intimidating as he hopes. “My point is you don’t want to tell me what’s up with you and Kallo, and Kallo is being awfully tight-lipped about it for being such a gossip.”

“Nothing to tell, really.”

“Which means there’s _something_.”

“It’s nothing, Ryder. Honest.”

Scott sighs. Drags a hand across his face. Counts to three. Exhales. “Alright. Sure. Okay. Sounds good. I’m just – gonna go. Get some food. And then bed. You’re welcome to join me.” His face reddens. “For food! Not for… the other thing.”

Gil is laughing at him again.

xXx

Nakmor Drack is an old, old krogan. Ancient, some might say. He’s lived well over a thousand years, seen the Krogan Rebellions and the fallout, lived through the genophage and everything. According to his files he left the Nexus with the other krogan when they all split from the Initiative, wanting little to do with them. But then he showed up on Eos, taking out a few Remnant, and he eventually wound up joining their ragtag little group.

Also, Drack’s granddaughter was Kesh, from the Nexus. That was a detail no one thought to mention to him and just let him find it out on his own. Thanks, _everyone_. Yes, SAM, that is sarcasm.

Say what you will about the grizzled old krogan, but he cares about his granddaughter. Scott can see it in his eyes, in his stance, hear it in his voice when he talks about her. He’s proud of her, so very proud of her in a way only a parent can be. From what he’s learned, Drack raised Kesh despite her being his granddaughter. He doesn’t a lot about krogan society, but he thinks that’s pretty rare, especially after the genophage and the fact very few of their offspring live.

“She’s blood of my blood, raised her as my own,” Drack tells him almost fondly.

“I like her,” Scott says. “She’s blunt and honest.”

“Well – she had to take after me somehow.”

He smirks, and Drack laughs, clapping him on the back. He staggers forward a step but finds his footing quickly.

“How are you settling in here, Drack?”

“You give me things to shoot and we’ll be just fine, kid.”

Oh, yeah. He keeps calling Scott ‘kid’. Scott supposes, to him, _everyone_ is a kid, since the krogan is well over a thousand years old. Lexi is the only  other member aboard the ship who lives that long, and she is considered young by asari standards still.

“Is everyone a kid to you?” he asks.

“When you get to be my age – yeah,” Drack answers.

“I’m not technically a kid, you know. I’m an adult by human standards.”

“Talk to me when you got a few centuries under you.”

“I have 600 years under me.”

“Cryo sleep doesn’t count, kid.”

He shakes his head, smirking. “Got any advice?”

“On living longer?”

“Well – no, I mean in general. For fighting kett.”

Drack loves fighting kett, after all. He was slaughtering them when they first met on Eos. At first he refused to join their group, saying he wanted little to do with the Initiative and he was fine on his own, killing kett – but after they fixed the vault and started fixing the planet, he joined them, saying he liked Scott’s style, and as long as there were more kett to kill, he was in.

“So,” Scott continues, “advice?”

xXx

“Again.”

His biotics flare, and the hum of energy is as soothing as it is breathtaking. The adrenaline shoots through him, a hauntingly familiar presence. He slams his glowing fist down into the ground, creating a biotic nova around him. The crates across the room shatter and explode, but that’s okay – they’re empty. The _Tempest_ doesn’t have a proper training room, but the cargo hold will have to do for now. It has the most open area, and he’s checked all the cargo around him with his scanner to make sure there is nothing fragile nearby.

The adrenaline is still there, the flare still present, and he throws a lancing biotic orb at a spot on the far wall. It connects harmlessly, unable to penetrate through the ship’s walls, but he does hit his mark. He’s getting better at this, slowly.

“More.”

He feels the rush as he’s given more energy, more strength, more power. SAM opens channels in his mind he’s never felt before; he never learned the shockwave biotic attack, but now he uses it for only the second time. The first time he tried it and actually _succeeded_ , by merely thinking about what he wanted to have happen, it scared the hell out of him and he immediately stopped for that day. SAM can infiltrate his thoughts so thoroughly, can enhance and give him everything – and a part of him doesn’t hate it. A part of him likes the reassurance, likes the thought that _someone_ is listening even if he doesn’t completely understand his own thoughts, and half the time SAM knows what he needs before he himself does.

The shockwave throws a few crates into the air. Most of them are empty; they’re on their way to the Nexus to resupply, and he can properly use a training room there, even if the thought of being so open about his training worries him. He’s always hated being the center of attention; maybe because he never was. Sara was the perfect child; she was daddy’s little girl, the little spitfire with the heart of gold, and Scott… Scott is not. Scott is Scott, not Sara, and he’s certainly not Pathfinder material.

_This should be Sara, not me._

But it’s him, and maybe one day the thought won’t hurt so much.

“Again,” Scott says, as soon as the rush leaves him and he’s had a chance to catch his breath.

 ** _Pathfinder,_** SAM says. **_You have been training for 6.2 hours straight. That is enough for today. You should be sufficiently exhausted to sleep until we reach the Nexus._**

A shiver inches up Scott’s spine, but he shakes it off with a roll of his shoulders. SAM’s onto his plan, but that’s okay.

“Again, SAM.”

**_I must advise against this. You are low on energy and calories; you should sleep and eat before continuing._ **

“I’m never going to get better if I don’t practice.”

**_You improve every day. You need not prove yourself to anyone._ **

_I have to. I have to be who they need, what they want._

**_That does not mean you have to alter things about yourself. If I learned anything from your father, it was that he had many regrets. You – do not, yet. At least not as much as him. There is no need to change._ **

The words are reassuring, in their own way. Scott runs a gloved hand across his sweaty face. _What if I’m not good enough? What if I fail when it counts?_

**_You will not._ **

The laugh which scratches free of his throat is more broken than anything. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Thanks, SAM.”

xXx

The minute Scott takes off his armor, he feels how sore he is. He’s been trying to train in every possible way since he was thrust into this position, but somehow it doesn’t make the fears of inadequacy any less. It does, though, tired him out so he can finally sleep at night.

When he’s too exhausted to think, it’s hard to dream. Maybe his body will forgive him for the mistreatment and soreness when he can sleep without dreams on his own again, without all the training.

SAM says he’s improving; in a way, he can see that he is, but it still doesn’t feel like it’s enough. And it has to be enough. It has to be, or this is all for nothing and everyone – _fucking everyone_ – is screwed.

He strips down to his boxers and climbs into the comfortable bed in his quarters. It’s overly large for just himself, but his father was a larger man – bigger personality, bigger dreams, more muscular body… Scott is small in comparison, in every way that matters. The bed just confirms this fact.

He closes his eyes and tries not to think.

He’s too exhausted for thought, and sleep quickly consumes him.

xXx

He makes it through half the night before he startles awake in a cold sweat, heart beating painfully in his chest. He sits up and scrubs a hand across his face; his eyes are gritty, either with sleep or tears, he honestly doesn’t know. He’s so tired, but he still can’t sleep. At least not more than a few hours. His body is sore, demanding more rest, but he crawls out of bed instead, padding softly across the room, toward his computer.

No new emails, not since before he went to train.

The blue orb in the room leaves an ominous glow amongst the shadows. **_“Sleep still eludes you. Perhaps I can help.”_**

“No,” Scott says, scrolling through the files he has for Eos, making sure he hasn’t missed anything. He’s not sure how SAM can ‘help’, but he isn’t willing to let the AI muck around his systems more than he has already. If he can’t sleep naturally, he can’t sleep.

**_“Then perhaps a visit to the medbay will help.”_ **

“There’s nothing Lexi can do except knock me out, and I _hate_ sedatives.”

 ** _You cannot go on like this,_** SAM informs him, switching to their private channel, even though speaking through his terminal was working just fine.

Scott can barely tell the difference anymore. He’s getting used to the voice.

“I’m fine, SAM.”

SAM is quiet for a moment. **_No, you are not._**

“SAM.”

**_In the past four days you have slept a collective of seven hours. With your training, you expend too much energy during the day to not rest at night. I will use force if necessary._ **

Scott blinks at the glowing blue terminal. “Are you threatening me?”

**_Yes._ **

He laughs. He’s too tired to think too hard about that right now, which is probably for the best. “I’ll send a message to Lexi. If she’s awake, I’ll go see her.”

**_She is awake._ **

“How do you know?”

 ** _I am connected to everyone aboard the ship,_** SAM reminds him. **_She is awake._**

Scott sighs, scrubbing a hand across his face, the stubble scratching against his hand. “You can’t just let me pretend, can you?” he mutters, before he pushes to his feet. “Alright. I’ll go see Lexi.”

**_I recommend a shirt before you go._ **

Scott stops at the door. Turns. Grabs an undershirt and sweatpants. “Right,” he says as he slips them on. “Am I presentable now, Mom?”

**_I detect sarcasm._ **

“Yeah. Yeah, you do.” Scott shakes his head and leaves his room.

The short walk to the medbay leaves his aching muscles protesting. Even his mind is tired; his thoughts hurt. His head hurts. Everything hurts. He drags his feet across the medbay threshold, and Lexi turns to look at him, blue eyes going up then down then up again, to meet his tired gaze. He can only imagine what she sees when she looks at him. If that stare is anything to go by, he’s in trouble.

“Sit,” she says, gesturing at one of the bio beds in the room.

Scott pads across the floor, and sits on the closest bed. Immediately Lexi is in front of him, waving her omni-tool over him, scanning the damage. “I’m not hurt,” he tells her.

“Your body begs to differ. What have I said about calorie intake when using your biotics?”

He feels two inches tall. His shoulders hunch as he looks away. “I know.”

“Then why do you do this to yourself?”

He shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know.”

“You do know. Why?”

 ** _“Scott has been having trouble sleeping,”_** SAM says from his nearby terminal.

 _Fucking snitch,_ Scott throws at him.

**_You are being childish about your health. If you will not confide in her, I will._ **

There’s a… mental stare-off of some kind. It’s not something seen, but felt. And he feels it intensely. Feels SAM’s stubbornness.

His shoulders slouch.

A tendril of victory shoots through him, but it's not his own.

“I keep having nightmares.”

“What kind of nightmares?” Lexi asks. “Look here.” She flashes a light into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. When she pulls away, he sees spots everywhere.

“Just – nightmares,” he tells her, not wishing to get into the specifics. “So I’ve been training. It hasn’t… tired me out as much as I hoped it would.”

“Oh, it’s tired you out,” she tells him, throwing him a quick scowl as she taps away at her omni-tool. “Your sugar is low, your weight is diminishing which is dangerous for a biotic as you _well know_ , and your brain waves are off the charts. Though, that might have something to do with SAM.”

**_“I apologize if I am interfering in your tests.”_ **

“It’s not your fault, SAM,” Scott sighs. “Just – can you knock me out until we get to the Nexus, please?”

“I can give you a sedative.”

“Yeah. I thought you’d say that.”

“I know you don't like them, but you really do need it. We can look for alternatives on the Nexus, but you need sleep now.”

**_She is right, Pathfinder._ **

He sighs heavily. “Alright. Fine. Drug me up.”

Lexi smirks. “That’s what I like to hear. But I can’t just knock you out – you need to eat first. Your body burns calories faster than a normal human when you’re asleep, due to your biotics. I can’t have your sugar dropping too low. Eat, and then I’ll give you a sedative.”

“Do I have to?” he says, like a child. He clears his throat. “I mean – I’m not hungry.”

“Your body begs to differ.”

**_“I can induce the feeling of hunger, if you like.”_ **

_Man…_ “Okay. If it’s the only way.”

Lexi nods. “I want to do a full work-up on you when we arrive at the Nexus. _Don’t be late_.”

With that, she waves him off, to the kitchen.

xXx

There’s a headache behind his eyes, like there always is when he uses sedatives.

But he feels better than he has in days.

He’s not late to Lexi’s physical so much as he was pulled away; Tann wants to see him immediately, though he’s not entirely sure why. Lexi will have to wait.

His muscles are in knots by the time he reaches Tann’s office. He doesn’t want to talk to the guy; he can feel an argument brewing.

He’s not wrong.

He and Tann argue over what kind of outpost should be placed on Eos. The outpost is almost finished, the groundwork laid atop the ruins of one of the previous sites making the construction that much quicker, and now they need to decide if they should favor a militaristic presence over a scientific one. Tann, of course, argues for soldiers.

Scott is leaning more toward science. If the first outpost they place focuses on soldiers and armories, then that’s the legacy they are leaving behind: that’s the line of thinking everyone is going to start having, because they think that’s what the Nexus wants. Military over science. But if they make the outpost a science one, it speaks more of peace and hope rather than danger and destruction.

In the end, Scott wins the argument. He’s not entirely sure how that happens, but Tann concedes and agrees to make the outpost a science one. He’ll work with Addison to get volunteers for the third outpost on Eos, and hopefully it will go better than the previous two.

He leaves out the threat: _if it doesn’t work, it’s all on you._

But Scott hears the words loud and clear.

By the time he leaves Tann’s office, his minor headache has turned into the first whispers of a migraine. There’s a sharp stab of pain which catches him off guard, and then a quiet flow of _coolness_. He’s not sure how to explain it; it’s just relief.

 ** _I will keep the headache from worsening,_** SAM assures him.

Maybe he should worry that SAM’s so far into his head, that he can stop fucking _migraines_ and induce _hunger_ , but in that moment he doesn’t care.

He’s not sure if that’s _him_ not caring, or if SAM’s making him not care.

He prefers not to dwell on it.

xXx

When he finds out there’s another alien species native to this galaxy, he’s pissed more than anything. Not that there’s another species, but because _no one thought it relevant to tell to him_.

He finds out by accident, when he overhears Vetra talking about an angaran contact she has. He’s confused, asks ‘what is angaran?’ and everyone collectively realizes he doesn’t know anything about the species native to this galaxy – the angara. The kett are invaders, too; most angara want nothing to do with them.

The Nexus, in general, don’t really know much about them: they haven’t tried to have first contact yet, as they can’t navigate through the Scourge without a Pathfinder, and until very recently, they thought they were all dead. But now Scott’s here, and still no one thought to bring up the fact that ‘hey, there’s another species inhabiting this galaxy and they want little to do with us’.

Except for on Kadara Port, apparently.

That’s where all the exiles from the Nexus have gone. It’s the only viable planet, really; the krogan have settled on a harsh dry planet called Elaaden, where it’s always daylight and hot and sunny, except in the shade where snow covers the ground. The temperature never changes. It’s always blisteringly hot. The exiles have settled on Kadara, a world nearly fit for habitation. _Nearly_. The sulfuric acid and gases make getting drinkable water a challenge, and only the toughest of the tough can survive. There’s a gang war, outlaws and outcasts everywhere, and in the middle of it all are the angara. It used to be one of their worlds – because apparently they used to be on many of these planets – but the kett stole it from them.

An exile named Sloane Kelly stole it back. She chased the kett off and reclaimed the planet.

But not for the angara.

Many are unhappy under her reign, Vetra informs him.

Peebee thinks there’s a vault on Kadara. Right now it’s the only lead they have, so they head for the exile planet. If they can make more planets viable for long-term outposts and life, then they have to go there. They have to do it. It’s what Pathfinders do – at least, that’s what Peebee tells him.

Scott’s not sure how he feels about the exile planet. He’s gotten one side of the story about the mutiny: the winner’s side. He needs to know both sides before he makes a judgment about them; he doesn’t know what those fourteen months were like for those on the Nexus, so he can’t judge them. However – from what he’s heard about this planet, it’s complete and utter chaos because of the exiles. They live by their own rules, and fight and kill as they please, and is that really what they came here for? They came all the way from the Milky Way just to turn Andromeda into the same murderous place.

He'd say it’s human nature, but it’s not restricted to just humans.

Maybe human nature extends to more than just humans. Maybe it’s universal.

The Nexus isn’t happy about them going to Kadara; Tann especially is displeased. He says nothing good can come from that planet, or the exiles inhabiting it. Scott casually mentions the angara Tann failed to tell him about, and that seems to shut the salarian up for the time being. Scott ends the call before Tann finds something to say.

They’re going to Kadara, with or without Tann’s approval.

The decision sounds good all the way up until Scott’s alone in his room later that night, on their way to Kadara. There, the doubts and worries mingle until they’re one giant, encompassing _thing_ threatening to swallow him whole.

_What if I’m wrong? What if we shouldn’t go to Kadara? What if I fail everyone? What if I get everyone killed?_

The exiles don’t like the Initiative, after all; they probably won’t take kindly to a Pathfinder among them.

_So maybe I don’t tell them I’m a Pathfinder._

They’ll realize it anyway, from his gear.

_I can go undercover. I can change my clothes. I could take a shuttle down to the planet. They don’t have to know._

But the cloak and dagger nonsense is not for him: he doesn’t like lying.

Especially lies by omission.

His father was chocked full of those. He doesn’t need more surprises.

He’ll be himself. Scott Ryder, of the Initiative.

Scott Ryder, Pathfinder.

 ** _You are doing well,_** SAM tells him suddenly.

Scott succeeds in not having a heart attack. _Thanks…? Thanks. Yeah. Thanks._

**_You have already accomplished more than your father did as Pathfinder._ **

That’s – not untrue. Alec Ryder might have been the one to create the SAMs for the Pathfinders, but he was only a Pathfinder himself for a short time. Most of that was spent in cryo, on the journey here. Then he died on the first planet they visited in Andromeda.

Scott has managed to fix Eos and establish an outpost there, called Prodromos.

Maybe he’s doing okay at this whole Pathfinder thing after all.

 ** _You are doing so well,_** SAM says. **_Do not doubt yourself so much. You are more than your doubts._**

_Thanks, SAM. I needed to hear that._

**_Your father would be proud of you._ **

Scott’s lips twist into a frown. _That’s pushing it, SAM. Dad was never proud of me – he certainly wouldn’t start now._

SAM says nothing for a long time, probably inputting this data into his extensive files or something.

Then, finally: **_I am proud of you._**

The breath leaves Scott’s lungs in a rush, burning his throat as he exhales sharply, sucking in a ragged gasp to replace it. The words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do.

Smiling shouldn’t be so hard, or feel so broken.

He wonders if SAM has any idea how long Scott’s ached to hear that. From anyone.

Maybe if SAM knows, then it makes the words less sincere: he’s saying what Scott wants – needs – to hear.

But that doesn’t matter.

Scott exhales slowly. “Thanks, SAM.”


	3. The Shadows of My Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Kadara don't mix very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not sure about this chapter. It's 7k of like - nothing? I don't know. I feel like not a lot is accomplished?
> 
> Well, let me know what you think, yeah? Comments are love <3

_ Chapter Three: The Shadows of My Yesterday _

 

Kadara Port is located at the top precipice of a mountain, high above the surface, away from the sulfuric acid and fumes from the ground. It’s loud and chaotic, despite its boasts of ‘neutral port’. There is to be no fighting on Kadara Port; it’s neutral ground. But the gang called the Outcasts rule this area, instead of the Collective. If someone is revealed to be part of the Collective, apparently bad things happen to them – they go missing from the Port, only to wind up dead somewhere off the port, off the mountaintop safety.

Scott steps off the _Tempest_ to a crowd of people. He exhales slowly, then smiles brightly. “Hello, everyone. I believe you have questions, or am I just that amazing to see?”

For a moment no one speaks. Then finally someone asks, “You’re a Pathfinder?”

“I thought you’d be taller,” someone else says.

“Bigger,” another adds.

“ _More_ ,” someone throws.

He swallows against the tightness in his chest, keeping that smile firmly in place. “My name is Scott Ryder, and I’m the human Pathfinder, yes. I’m not here to cause trouble; I understand you and the Initiative don’t get along. I’m not here to recruit you back into it. I just want to explore the planet.”

“We’re not having no Nexus outpost here,” someone snaps.

**_There is a lot of animosity here, Pathfinder._ **

_Yeah, thanks. I got that much._

“Take him to Sloane,” someone suggests. “She can deal with him.”

And then there are guns drawn on him, and _fuck_ , he hasn’t had nearly enough sleep for this.

He holds his hands up and orders his team to stay on the ship until he or SAM says otherwise. They don’t ask why SAM would be telling them instead of Scott. Scott tries not to think about it.

 ** _I advise against this plan,_** SAM says as they start to lead him away from the safety of his team and the _Tempest_ , their guns still drawn on him.

 _Yeah, I got that much,_ Scott replies, fighting the urge to roll his eyes as he keeps his hands high above his head.

**_This is an unnecessary risk._ **

_I’m the threat here – to them. They don’t trust me. If they want to take me to their leader, then fine._

**_What if she is not receptive to a conversation?_ **

_Then I guess I’ll have to let myself out._

There’s more confidence in his responses than he feels – and SAM senses that, of course. It does nothing to lift the AI’s spirits.

**_You are not wearing armor._ **

_I know, SAM._ He isn’t wearing armor because he doesn’t want anyone to feel threatened. If he were to step off the ship wearing weapons and armor – all hell would break loose. He’s trying to be diplomatic.

**_The team should at least come with you._ **

_That’ll look like we’re trying to invade them._

**_They cannot help you from the ship, Scott._ **

Scott exhales slowly. _Yeah, I know. That’s what I have you for, right, buddy?_

It’s the first time he’s called SAM ‘buddy’. Neither of them comment on it.

He’s pulled from his thoughts and silent communication when he’s shoved over a threshold. He staggers and nearly crashes to his knees but manages to find his footing just in time. He walks forward thanks to the shove against the small of his back, right against his spine. There’s a flash of pain but SAM is on top of that – relief ebbs through him almost immediately.

There’s a dark-skinned woman sitting across the room, in a chair that’s supposed to be some kind of throne, he supposes. It’s positioned just so, and she’s giving some kind of instructions via her omni-tool. She quickly closes the connection when Scott is pushed forward again, stopping in front of her.

“What.”

He can’t help but scoff. “Should I bow, your majesty? Curtsey? I really don’t know all the rules here. Is there some kind of etiquette I should be following?”

The woman’s mismatched eyes narrow at him as she leans forward. “Nexus scum. Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you now.”

“I’m not here for a fight,” Scott says. “I’m just here to look around the planet – for something called a vault. Have you heard of it?”

“I haven’t,” she says. “But what does this matter to me? Your kind aren’t welcome on this planet. I suggest you leave before I change my mind and kill you.”

 ** _She is not bluffing,_** SAM informs him.

“I’m just here to look around,” he says. “I’m not here to drag you back to the Nexus. They don’t approve of me being here any more than you do.”

That gets her attention. “The Nexus poster boy, going against orders? Maybe you’re more interesting than I thought. Tell me: what do you want with this planet?”

“I just want to see if there’s a vault. I was told there might be, since there’s monoliths. If there is a vault, I can try to fix it like I did on Eos.”

She snorts. “I have heard about Eos. Our world does not need to be _fixed_ so we can owe the Initiative something.”

“I’m just here for the vault,” he says again, feeling like he’s a broken record. He can feel everyone’s tensions rising – can practically feel the man behind him wrapping his finger around the trigger of the gun pressed into his spine. At this range, without armor, he’ll die – there’s no way the man can miss.

 ** _I can throw up a biotic barrier,_** SAM says.

 _Not yet,_ Scott tells him.

“You can live your lives here – I don’t care. I’m not interested in any of you. I just want the vault. And if I can improve this planet – then that’s all the better for you, right? What do you have to lose?”

“We don’t want your help,” Sloane says, eyes narrowed into dangerous, mismatched slits.

“But you need it,” Scott says, gambling.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well – look at you. You’re outcasts, exiles, on a hostile planet. There’s little drinking water. I can remedy that. I can give you more water if you let me find the vault and try and fix this planet.”

“You can’t fix what’s not broken.”

Scott huffs, annoyance flooding through him. “This planet _is_ broken – they’re _all_ broken. Just look at them! What do you have to lose by letting me help? What do you have to _gain_?”

She’s silent for a long moment. He wonders if he miscalculated – wonders if he’ll realize he’s been shot before he dies. Maybe it’ll be instant. Hopefully the next Pathfinder will be more lucky, and better equipped to handle the job.

Hopefully the next Pathfinder will be… _more_.

But no one shoots. Sloane sits back, huffing.

He doesn’t die.

“Fine,” Sloane says. “But one wrong move and you’re fucking dead, do you hear me, _Pathfinder_?”

“Loud and clear,” he says with a nod.

xXx

**_That was foolish, Pathfinder._ **

_Yeah, tell me something I don’t know._

**_That was reckless._ **

_Yep._

**_An unnecessary risk._ **

_We’ll agree to disagree on that one._

**_You are infuriating._ **

A laugh escapes Scott’s throat as he makes his way back to the _Tempest_ , alone. He’s alone, but he can feel eyes watching him; he knows he’s being followed, but he can’t decide if it’s Sloane’s people or someone else. She’s given him free reign of the area as long as he doesn’t _fuck things up_ , her words, not his. The minute he steps out of line – that’s it.

_Careful, SAM. You’re starting to sound human._

**_It is in my programming to learn from you – to experience your feelings as though they are my own, and to help you. We grow with each other. Is it wrong that I sound human to you?_ **

SAM sounds more curious than offended, Scott thinks. He’s not sure how he knows, but he does.

 _I’m okay with it,_ he tells the AI. _Others might not be._

**_Yes. Your father feared the same, when he upgraded me above the other SAMs. It is why he remained quiet about it._ **

_Yeah, among other reasons,_ Scott can’t help but mentally snort.

**_Your father was a complicated man._ **

_Definitely. Am I being watched, SAM?_

**_Yes._ **

The answer doesn’t surprise him. His hair doesn’t just stand on end for no reason. _Where? Who? One of Sloane’s people?_

**_Unknown. Someone is scanning you. It is coming from your left._ **

He looks over. There’s the entrance to a bar called Kralla’s Song. Someone leans casually outside, looking at their omni-tool. They look quite inconspicuous, more tired than anything, but now that Scott knows what to look for, he knows that’s the guy scanning him. He can’t figure out why, though.

_I’ll introduce myself._

**_Use caution_ ** **.**

He steps toward the entrance, toward the bronze-skinned man leaning against the wall off to the side. The man looks up and smiles, and with a flash, his omni-tool disappears from his arm.

“I see you have caught me,” the man says in a heavy accent. “I expect nothing less from the human Pathfinder.”

“You were scanning me,” Scott says. “You could have just asked.”

The man laughs. “One doesn’t just _ask_ around here. You have much to learn, Scott Ryder.”

“You know my name, but I don’t think I caught yours.”

“I didn’t throw it.”

“That’s a terrible line,” Scott says, smirking. “Do you always use shitty lines? I bet you have a cheesy pickup line, too.”

“I’ll never tell,” the man replies with his own smirk. His lips twist around the words in a way which leaves Scott’s focus shifting toward them. He looks back up to find brown-hazel eyes watching him carefully. “Would you care for a drink?”

“Is that your line?” Scott asks.

“No,” the man says, chuckling. It’s not an unpleasant sound. Scott’s shoulders relax a little more. “But we are outside of a bar, and I have something to discuss with you.”

“Well – when you put it like _that_ …”

The man turns and leads the way into Kralla’s Song.

Kralla’s Song is loud, filled with music and drunken conversations. A few are drunkenly dancing; they look like they are about to keel over. The man leads him to a quiet corner in the back, and they sit at the empty table, across from each other. Almost immediately, drinks are placed in front of them. Scott eyes the beverage because he’s pretty sure he didn’t order anything. But the man across from him smiles and takes a long guzzle of his, prompting Scott to shrug and do the same. It burns all the way down.

SAM doesn’t give any readings or warnings about poison, so he must be okay.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asks. “And for that matter – what’s your name? Or should I just call you Stranger?”

“The name’s Reyes. Reyes Vidal.”

“Alright. Nice to meet you, Reyes. Now – what did you need?”

“You were being watched,” Reyes tells him.

“Yeah – I kind of figured that out myself. I’m not completely helpless.”

Reyes smirks. “Good to know.”

“So you scanned me – why?”

“To get your attention before your watchers could ambush you.”

“Ambush me?”

 _SAM?_ he asks.

**_As I could not find them, I can only assume they were utilizing scramblers._ **

“Why would they ambush me?” Scott asks, confused. “Sloane Kelly said I could look around.”

“Not everyone works for Sloane,” Reyes says. “You’ll learn. You’re new here. No one here likes the Nexus; they’re all still bitter about the whole uprising.”

“Were you there for it?”

 _Well,_ he thinks to himself, _obviously. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here._

“I didn’t like how the Initiative handled the whole thing, so I left,” Reyes says, waving a hand dismissively. “But that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” Reyes takes another drink, swallowing slowly, Adam’s apple bobbing. He wipes at his mouth with a gloved hand. “You’re going to need a friend here. I could be that friend.”

“Is _that_ your pick-up line?”

Reyes smiles. “No. No, that is not. My lines are much better.”

“I should hope so. And why should I trust you?”

“Why shouldn’t you? I haven’t attacked you yet. I warned you of an ambush. Have I given you reason to doubt me?”

“No, but there’s always ulterior motives. What do you get out of this?”

Reyes grins, all teeth as he leans forward. “I get a powerful ally, should the need arise. And you get information on Kadara. I have many contacts.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Look around. Be cautious. Get back with me soon.” Reyes pushes to his feet and makes to walk away, his drink empty.

Scott spins in his chair to watch him. “You didn’t tell me how to reach you.”

Reyes looks over his shoulder and winks.

Then he’s gone, disappearing in the crowd.

Scott shakes his head.

**_Pathfinder._ **

“Yeah?” he sighs.

**_There is an angry asari staring at you. She has a knife._ **

Scott spins toward the bar, where there is indeed an asari watching him, twirling a knife between nimble fingers.

She’s eying his drink expectantly, and then eyes him.

“Oh, that fucker.”

 ** _What is it?_** SAM asks.

_Asshole stuck me with the bill!_

xXx

When Scott sees Reyes Vidal again, he is going to punch him.

Right in that smug face.

For sticking him with the bill.

Because that’s just fucking rude. It was _Reyes’_ idea to drink. Scott didn’t even order anything. The drinks just appeared.

He fumes over this for a while, though he’s not sure why. It’s just easier to focus on that than everything else, as he finally makes it back aboard the _Tempest_.

Maybe he should have returned sooner or let his crew know he was okay. Honestly, he’s not used to people worrying about him, so it just slipped his mind.

The minute he steps on the _Tempest_ , Liam is standing there with his arms folded across his chest, and he doesn’t look happy.

“That was bullshit, you know?” Liam says.

“… Excuse me?”

“You’re the Pathfinder; you can’t just walk off like that.”

“He’s right,” Cora says from the shadows, and Scott jumps because _holy fuck_ , where did she even come from? She steps into the light, glaring at him. “You have responsibilities now. You need to take them seriously.”

Scott stares at her. She doesn’t think he’s taking this seriously?

If he takes it any _more_ seriously, he won’t be able to breathe, or function at all.

_I’m doing all I can…_

He forces a smile. “Aw, so you do care.”

She rolls her eyes. “I wish you would take this seriously. What happens if you die?”

“Uh… is this… a trick question?” he asks, confused. “SAM switches to you. Big fucking deal.”

Cora growls, throwing her hands up as she huffs in frustration. Then she storms away, unable to form words. Liam watches her go, then looks back at Scott. His arms are still folded across his chest, and he’s got that eyebrow quirked.

“Nice one,” Liam says. “Real classy. Maybe be more careful with your life from now on. We’re your friends – we do care about you.”

“You’re not my friends,” Scott hisses, glaring at him.

Liam stares. “What?”

“You’re not my friends! I don’t know you people!”

_Oh, God. Make me stop talking. SAM, help._

**_“Scott is under a lot of pressure right now, Mr. Kosta. Please do not look too hard at his outburst. He doesn’t mean it.”_ **

Scott huffs, a tight ball of frustration mingling with _why me_ , clogging his throat. He swallows hard around it, but it doesn’t help. Liam is still watching him, but now he has a kicked puppy expression on his fucking face, and Scott doesn’t know what to do.

“Sorry,” he says uneasily, looking away. “Just – sorry.”

With that, he pushes past Liam, head down and eyes glued to the floor.

xXx

_They’re not my friends._

He doesn’t know them. He doesn’t know any of them. Except Lexi – but they aren’t friends. He just knows her from before the jump, from before they entered cryo to travel to Andromeda over 600 years ago. The others – he doesn’t know them. He knows _of_ Cora; he met her a few times prior to joining the Initiative, since she worked closely with his father, but that was it. They knew each other because of Alec Ryder; they don’t _know_ each other. She doesn’t know him, and he doesn’t know her, and they aren’t friends.

He didn’t even know Liam prior to waking up in Andromeda. Sure, they went through Habitat 7 together, fell out of a shuttle together, survived the fall together – but that’s it. That’s as far as it goes. They don’t know each other. They’ve had conversations, and he’s starting to get to know Liam, piece by piece – but they aren’t friends.

Scott doesn’t have any friends.

He’s not _good_ at having friends. He’s not good with people. Sara. Sara’s good with people. He’s good with… with…

_I’m not good with anything._

**_Untrue,_** SAM says, speaking up for the first time since his outburst with Liam over two hours ago. **_You are good at adapting. You are good at surviving. Your biotics, and defensive techniques, are improving. You are becoming a good Pathfinder. More than your father._**

He closes his eyes and breaths in and out through his nose – once, twice, three times.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, just loud enough for it to be audible. “I’m sorry. Did you tell them I’m sorry?”

 ** _“You did,”_** SAM replies. **_“They understand you are under pressure. I am sure they will forgive the outburst.”_**

“I was an ass.”

**_“I fail to see how a mule has any relevance in this conversation.”_ **

A slow smile carves through Scott’s face. “SAM,” he says, looking at the orb across the room, “are you exhibiting a sense of humor?”

**_“Your father gave me humor algorithms. He thought it was important for me to learn. I have learned they are acceptable when cheering someone up. Is it working?”_ **

He swallows. “You’re trying to cheer me up?”

**_“I always try, but I often fail.”_ **

SAM is so open. So honest. It’s how he’s programmed, but it’s still – Scott appreciates it. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. “Yeah, it’s working. Sorry I’ve been… off. None of this should bother me anymore. It’s been weeks.”

It’s been just over a month since he was made Pathfinder – since his father died. Since his sister entered her coma. It’s a lot to process, but it’s been a month. He should be past this by now, but he’s not. Sometimes he feels okay, but then other times…

Sometimes the rooms are too small, there’s not enough air, and he just wants to go back into cryo for a while.

**_“I do not think there is a time limit on acceptance and grief.”_ **

Scott exhales slowly. “I guess not.”

 ** _You are doing fine, Scott,_** SAM tells him via their private channel.

_I appreciate your help._

**_I will always help._ **

Maybe he has one friend on the _Tempest_.

xXx

He doesn’t want to take anyone with him down to the surface of Kadara, but they won’t let him go alone, and he knows he can’t alone. So he picks Peebee and Vetra; at least he hasn’t snapped at them yet. Vetra and Peebee know this place better than anyone else on the team, too, so it’s a logical choice. He’s totally not running from his problems. Nope. Not him.

**_The sarcasm is strong today._ **

_Shut it, SAM._

**_What am I shutting?_ **

_Oh my god. Don’t make me laugh right now. Then they’ll think I’m insane for laughing at the voices in my head._

**_They already know I’m here. They are your teammates._ **

_Shh. Just let them think I’m not crazy, thanks._

He smiles at Vetra and Peebee as they step off the _Tempest_. He can feel eyes on him, and looks over his shoulder to find Liam and Cora standing in the background, watching them depart. He quickly looks away and focuses on putting one foot in front of the other. He can do this. Walking. He can totally do this. Just because there’s a fucking _sun_ at the back of his neck doesn’t mean anything.

He walks toward the elevator next to the docking area, and they step inside to head down to the slums, and Kadara’s surface. The trip is both long and short: in reality it’s less than a few minutes, but in that awkward silence it feels like a lot longer. No one is talking.

Once down in the slums, they’re about to head out of the shadow of the mountain to start looking around and investigating this planet, when the hair on the back of Scott’s neck stands on end.

**_You are being watched, Pathfinder._ **

_Yeah, I got that, SAM. From where?_

**_To your left. It is Mr. Vidal._ **

Scott turns, and Reyes is indeed waiting for him just outside the elevator. He smiles when Scott looks over, and inclines his head in the direction of the structure at the base of the mountain. It’s a bunch of small buildings all connected by little bridges, off the ground. Scott follows after Reyes, and is lead inside one of the buildings. Inside, lights flash and dancers dance behind bars, away from probing hands. It’s a bar, but less classy than Kralla’s Song, if one can call that classy.

He rolls his shoulders, glancing over them at his teammates. They seem to catch his meaning and disperse, moving around the club as he follows Reyes into a private room. The door closes behind them, but he’s not too worried; he has his armor and weapons, after all, and his teammates are nearby.

He doesn’t think Reyes would lure him into a trap… but he doesn’t know the guy, so anything is possible.

“We need to stop meeting like this,” Scott says, sitting on the comfortable booth seat. Reyes sits next to him, smirking.

“You don’t like meeting in dark rooms? Seems romantic to me.”

“Seems creepy to me,” Scott tells him. “What’s up?”

“Yes, yes, right to the point – I like that about you,” Reyes says. “I have a… problem, I thought you might help me with.”

“O-kay,” Scott says slowly, frowning. “Couple questions.”

“Yes?”

“Why me? You don’t know me, and I’m with the Initiative; don’t you hate them?”

“I don’t agree with them,” Reyes says with a shrug. “But you’re a Pathfinder; you’re supposed to fix things, right? And you’re not from here. That makes you uniquely qualified.”

“For what?”

“How would you like to make a name for yourself on Kadara?”

Scott’s nose wrinkles. “Uh – not really my thing. What do you need help with?”

“Interesting,” Reyes says, watching him carefully.

“What?”

“If you made a name for yourself you would be better liked here.”

“I’m not here to be liked – I’m here to fix the planet,” Scott says, scowling. “As soon as I find the damn vault. You’d think something that fucking big would be easy to spot, but – pfft,” he scoffs. “Apparently fucking not. Because it’s probably underground, _again_. Which means fucking _puzzles_ , and the vortex of _doom_. And – stop looking at me like that. I’m serious.”

Reyes laughs, shaking his head. “You are funny, Scott Ryder. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but frustrated suits you well.”

Scott scowls again, narrowing his eyes. “Uh huh. Speaking of frustrated.”

“Yes?”

“Leave me with the tab again, and I’m going to punch you right in your smug face.” He smiles. “We clear?”

Reyes laughs again. Scott doesn’t know why. He’s completely serious.

“Will you help me, or not?”

“I dunno – you haven’t given me a lot of answers about _what_ I’m helping you with. I looked you up. You’re a smuggler. I don’t want to do anything illegal; I’m just here to find the vault,” Scott tells him, sighing heavily, because it feels like he’s getting nowhere.

Patience has never been his virtue. Except for when it comes to exploring – he will wait as long as it takes. But with people. People are the worst. He can’t handle them. He doesn’t _do_ people.

Reyes is proving more frustrating than others, with his vague answers and his stupidly smug face and his tab-ditching habit.

 ** _I do not think one instance makes it a habit,_** SAM says unhelpfully.

 _Semantics_.

“I would never ask the Pathfinder to do something illegal. I am a gentleman.”

“Uh huh,” Scott says skeptically. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because I’m lying,” Reyes says, smirking. “I’m not a gentleman.”

Scott smirks. “Is _that_ your pick-up line?”

“No.”

“If I guess it, do I get a prize?”

Reyes pauses. Looks him up and down. Grins. “That depends. Do _I_ get a prize?”

“For what?”

“We’ll think of something, I’m sure. Now – I need your help investigating a series of murders.”

Scott blinks. He definitely wasn’t expecting that. “Okay. What about it?”

“First – have you heard of the Roekaar?”

xXx

Kadara is a dry, acidic planet. There are plants and trees and everything, but it’s still humid. The water is boiling with acid; steam rises. Peebee asks if it’s okay that the water is on fire. Scott has no response to that.

Finding Kadara’s vault is surprisingly simple. The monoliths are easily spotted from the sky, and SAM helps pinpoint their locations while they’re on the ground. They call in the Nomad to drive around the planet; Scott tries his hardest not to crash. Peebee bursts out laughing the first time he struggles with the steering, which is about two seconds after entering the vehicle. He throws her a glare but that doesn’t stop her. She says his glare isn’t intimidating. Vetra agrees with her. They’re teaming up on him. Next time he’s bringing Drack; hopefully the krogan will have his back.

After they activate the monoliths, it leads them to the vault’s location.

Then they go back underground, and deal with the puzzles and jumps again.

“Alright,” he says with a confidence he doesn’t really feel, “let’s get this place up and running.”

The vortex of doom after they activate the vault is only slightly less terrifying than last time, because they are expecting it. It doesn’t make the danger any less real, though, or his legs pump any faster. It’s a race back to the start, and he has his hand up and ready before they reach the console. He smacks his palm down on it, a part of him worried if this will even work because what if this vault is _different_ , but it works.

The swirling purple and blue storm recedes; they can breathe again.

**_You did well, Scott._ **

The praise startles him, for more reasons than one. He’s busy trying to catch his breath; a sudden voice in his head is _not_ what he needs right then. He’s pretty sure his shaky inhale is audible to the girls.

 ** _You did well,_** SAM says again, once he has a moment to recover and catch his breath.

He exhales slowly, closing his eyes briefly. He’s not used to praise. It’s just – weird, being the recipient of it. SAM praises him more than anyone else has in his entire life, and that’s saying something, considering SAM is a fucking AI and he’s only been in Scott’s head for a little over a month.

That’s not a comparison he needs right now, though.

 _Thanks, SAM,_ he says, and then looks at Vetra and Peebee. “Ready to get out of here?”

They both nod, though Peebee is looking around still. He can feel her curiosity. He wants to learn more about the vaults too, but now isn’t really the time. They don’t know if that vortex is gone forever, or if it will come back in a few minutes if they don’t leave. He’s not willing to stick around to find out.

They go back up the gravity well, and back onto solid ground.

Reyes is waiting for them outside of it, leaning against the Nomad. “Bravo,” he says, with a slow clap. “Is the planet fixed now?”

“It’s a start,” Scott says. “But it will take a while before the acidity levels go down. What are you doing here? How did you know where we’d be?”

“I have my sources,” Reyes says dismissively. “And I saved your ass.”

“You… what?”

Reyes pushes off the Nomad and walks around it. Scott follows after him.

On the other side of the Nomad are three human men. Two of them are dead, but one is still alive, tied up and gagged. He glowers at Reyes and Scott and tries to free himself, but Reyes knows his knots.

“What… is this?” Scott asks, confused.

“This is an ambush,” Reyes says. “They wanted to kill you after you turned on the vault. I can only guess they’re Sloane’s men, but this one isn’t very forthcoming with information.” He uses his boot to nudge the tied up guy off balance; the man falls over with a muffle sound.

Scott scrubs a gloved hand over his face. “Why would Sloane send men after me? She gave me the okay to look for the vault.”

“She wants the planet fixed, but she doesn’t want to owe the Initiative anything,” Reyes says, shrugging. “If you live, she is indebted to you, even if you say she is not.”

This is why Scott stays out of politics. His head hurts.

“We need to confront her about this,” Peebee says.

“I agree,” Vetra adds. “She can’t be allowed to attack the Pathfinder without repercussions.”

“This is her planet,” Scott says, frowning at the two of them. “We’re intruders here.”

“It’s not _her_ planet,” Reyes says, shaking his head, “though she thinks it is. Although, you are right that you’re intruders. No one is very happy you’re here. Which is why I can only speculate they’re Sloane’s men; I don’t have definitive proof.”

“I should still pay her a visit,” Scott says, sighing. “To let her know it’s done and we’ll be leaving. If she is the one who planned this, then she’ll know it failed and if she wants me dead, her window is closing; we can set a trap.”

“You want to play bait?” Reyes asks, a frown crossing his face.

“It doesn’t sound like a difficult job,” Scott tells him, rolling his eyes. _Especially compared to ‘Pathfinder’._ “You guys got my back, right?” He quirks a brow at the smuggler, who grins back at him.

“Of course.”

 _I better not find a dagger in it, then._ “Cool,” he says, smiling. “Then it’s a plan.”

xXx

**_I advise against this plan._ **

_Noted, SAM,_ Scott replies on his way to Sloane’s hidey hole on Kadara Port.

**_You should not be alone._ **

_Is that concern I hear?_

**_One of us has to have concern for your life, since you will not._ **

_Someone’s touchy. I’m not alone – Reyes is just outside, and the others are on the ship if I need to call them in._

**_None of them will stop a bullet in Sloane’s office._ **

_No, but that’s what you’re here for, right?_

Scott nods at the guards in front of Sloane’s room, and pushes inside without waiting for permission. The guards stumble after him, telling him he better watch himself. Sloane is, of course, at her throne – where else would she be?

Scott smiles at her. “Don’t get up on my account.”

Her eyes narrow. “What do you want now.”

“Now, is that any way to treat the man who saved your planet?”

“I thought you didn’t do it for the glory,” she snorts, shaking her head. “What do you want – a medal?”

“That would be great, actually. Can I have it engraved? Personally from you? Can I sit in your chair?”

**_Scott – her anger is rising. I recommend caution._ **

“Give me a reason I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” Sloane says, glaring at him.

“Because I fixed your planet,” Scott says, aware that there are guns trained on him, even if he can’t see them. He doesn’t need SAM’s sensors or scanners for that. “Also, I have a team waiting if I don’t come back – just a precaution, you know. They know I’m here and if something happens to me under your roof – well, that’s just bad for business, isn’t it?” He smiles sweetly. “Your move, honey.”

“Get the fuck out of my face before I change my mind,” she hisses, waving her hand.

His arms are grabbed and he’s dragged unceremoniously from the room, and literally thrown out of the building. He trips over the threshold and hits his knees hard, but he’s alive. He’s alive and Sloane knows her plan failed earlier, and he’ll be leaving soon. She’ll try again very soon, but only after he’s rendezvoused with his crew. He’s certain she has eyes on him, after all. She’ll know he made it back to his ship; she’ll make it look like it’s not connected to her, just like she tried on the surface of the planet.

 _If it’s even here,_ a part of his mind whispers.

There is no concrete evidence pointing to Sloane, and Reyes isn’t the most trustworthy person; he’s a smuggler, a criminal. But at the moment, he’s inclined to believe the guy who stopped the ambush.

_But how did he know where we were…_

All he said about it was that he had ‘sources’. But how did he know to follow them, to stop the ambush…

_Was Reyes lying about the ambush?_

**_I did not sense any dishonesty from him during that conversation,_** SAM assures him.

Scott exhales slowly. _Good. So at least one person is telling the truth._

xXx

“Hey, Ryder – can we talk?”

Scott looks up from his plate of food, fork halfway to his lips. In the doorway stands Liam. Scott’s appetite flees and he puts his fork down with a heavy sigh. “Sure, Liam. Sit down.”

Liam sits across from him at the small table. “I’m not disturbing you, am I? I can come back later.”

“No, it’s fine – I’m done eating.” He inhales slowly. “I’m sorry, about snapping at you. You were only trying to help. That was wrong of me.”

“I’m just… a little confused. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind clarifying.”

“Sure. What can I clear up?”

“I thought we were friends,” Liam says, confused. “You have my back and I have yours.”

“Liam…” Scott says slowly, frowning at him. He does seem genuinely confused. “What do you actually know about me?”

“What?”

“Humor me. What do you actually know about me?”

“Well – you’re the Pathfinder.”

“Yes,” Scott says, nodding encouragingly. “And?”

“Your sisters in a coma. You didn’t get along well with your father; I feel like there’s some guilt there, after his death. But you shouldn’t feel guilty – it wasn’t your fault.”

Scott swallows. “Let’s make this easier, Liam. What’s my favorite color?”

“What?”

“My favorite color,” Scott says. “It’s something friends know. What’s mine?”

“I don’t know… blue?”

“Just because I’m wearing blue doesn’t mean it’s my favorite color,” Scott says, shaking his head. “Sorry, Liam. I don’t mean to burst your bubble. You’re a nice guy and eventually, yeah, we might be friends – but right now, I don’t know you people. You don’t know me. I’m just the son of the guy you were _supposed_ to work with. You’re stuck with me, but you don’t know me. And that’s okay – I don’t expect you to know me.”

Liam frowns, hesitating. “What _is_ your favorite color?”

“When you can answer that, we’re friends,” Scott says, pushing to his feet. “And no asking Sam – that’s cheating.”

xXx

Sloane hasn’t made her move yet, if she’s the one behind the initial ambush attempt. There’s still no concrete evidence. Today he’s on his way to meet Reyes at Tartarus, the bar in the slums, so they can discuss the murders and the Roekaar he mentioned earlier. Apparently the Roekaar are a group of angara who hate aliens – that includes everyone from the Milky Way, because they’re the aliens here. This isn’t their galaxy.

A lot of angara don’t like the Milky Way inhabitants; but the Roekaar are a radical group who go to extreme measures. There have been a series of bodies, both angaran and not, which have turned up dead. The victims, according to Reyes, are either all from the Milky Way, or were outward sympathizers of the them.

It’s not much, but it’s something.

A possible pattern.

The elevator stops suddenly, causing him to stagger. He frowns, and looks around, but of course he can’t see anything from here. A dark pit forms in his stomach, tendrils of dread curling around his heart and lungs, tightening so it’s hard to breathe. He can’t help but feel like he’s just made a huge mistake.

Something creaks above him. The elevator shifts – drops a level. He staggers again, crashing against the wall as his heart hammers wildly in his chest.

 _I fucked up,_ he thinks. _I’m gonna die._

He didn’t think Sloane would try to kill him in an elevator – but he has to give her props for creativity. He was expecting another ambush; not something subtle like this. Subtle doesn’t exactly seem like her MO.

_Any ideas?_

**_Help is on the way,_** SAM says. **_According to chatter and sensors, Reyes is waiting below. He knows something is wrong._**

_Oh, good. So we’re counting on the smuggler to save us._

Help won’t come in time. There’s no way anyone can get to him fast enough – not when the elevator could fall the rest of the way down any moment now. He estimates, according to how long he was in the elevator before it started malfunctioning, he’s not even halfway down the mountain; the fall will kill him.

Unless…

_SAM, can you enhance my jump-jets?_

**_I am not connected to your jump-jets,_** SAM says. **_However, instead of using jump-jets, you could, in theory, use your biotics the same way. I can enhance that._**

Scott grins. “Sounds like a plan.”

He releases a slow, steady breath. The elevator shakes again, drops down a fraction once more. He maintains his footing, and throws his arms out. A surge of biotic energy shoots from his hands as he shoves at the door of the elevator; it’s not a very sturdy metal, rusty and not well maintained. It bends – breaks. He flings it away, shoving it down the drop below. It falls – he hears the crash as it lands.

Then he takes one breath, two, three – and jumps.

Freefalling is not something Scott has ever wanted to try. The wind hurts his face; the adrenaline steals his breath. He’s falling, falling, falling-

And then he’s using his hands and feet, and his biotics, to slow his decent, much like he did when he fell out of the shuttle back on Habitat 7, but this fall is higher, and there are rocks all around him. He crashes into one; it breaks through a piece of his armor and cuts his arm. His focus wavers.

He’s falling, falling, falling-

He’s not sure if he’s the one who saves his life in those last few seconds, slowing his descent enough so he doesn’t die upon hitting the ground, or if it’s SAM. Maybe it doesn’t matter; they share a mind.

He hits the ground hard – falls off balance, hurts his ankle, topples sideways to knock his shoulder and wounded arm painfully into the ground – but he’s alive.

Someone is talking to him. His ears are ringing, his head is throbbing – he can’t hear. But he focuses on the face hovering over him, on the light brown eyes, the dark skin, and the black, slicked back hair.

 _Reyes,_ he tells himself.

He smiles. “Were you waiting long? Am I late? I came as fast as I could.”

Reyes stares at him for a moment, like he can’t decide if Scott’s crazy or not, and then he, too, smiles. “You’re a crazy bastard. Did you know that?”

“I was completely unaware until just now.”

Reyes snorts, but he’s smirking as he helps Scott to his feet. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking fantastic, I just fell out of an elevator.”

Speaking of the elevator…

He turns to face the elevator shaft. The elevator is in pieces at the bottom; it must have fallen right after he jumped out, when he was focused on slowing his fall.

 ** _You are in shock,_** SAM says.

Yeah, he can tell – because he can’t feel the pain right now, and he absolutely is _not_ thinking about close he came to dying.

“Let’s get you a drink,” Reyes says, grabbing his arm to lead him away. “And some medi-gel.”

“That – yeah. Yeah. Let’s do that. I need a drink. Or twelve.”

He’s shaky, his legs trembling all the way to Tartarus, but he’s not sure if it’s the fading adrenaline, the pain he can’t quite feel but knows is there, or if it’s because _someone just tried to kill him_. It doesn’t really matter.

There’s an arm around his waist. He’s leaning against someone. When did that happen?

He glances over to find Reyes steadfastly not looking at him, even though the man literally has Scott draped over him.

Did he get drunk without knowing it? This is why he can’t go anywhere nice.

They enter the back room of Tartarus, the same one Reyes took him to before.

It’s not until Reyes is carefully putting him down on the booth seat that the pain becomes noticeable. Absolutely everything hurts, and it flares up at once. He grimaces, biting down hard on his lower lip.

**_I am attempting to lessen the pain, Pathfinder. However, I do recommend Dr. T’Perro give you an examination, and medi-gel, when we return to the ship. I also advise against alcohol at this point._ **

Scott inhales slowly; even that hurts. His lungs are burning, probably from how quickly he was falling. “Okay, so – that happened,” he manages to whisper. “Shit.”

“That happened,” Reyes agrees with a small nod. “How are you? Do you have a doctor aboard your ship? I’m assuming you do.”

“Yes,” Scott says, swallowing. “But I’m fine. I’m okay. Just – you wanted to talk about the murders?”

Reyes quirks a brow at him. “First, should we not discuss your attempted murder?”

“We still think it’s Sloane, right? I’m sure we can find surveillance or _something_ involving the elevator,” Scott says.

“If you are going to insist on staying down here and talking, then at least let me get the nearby doctor – he can look at that arm.”

It does hurt – a lot. “Alright,” Scott says. “Sure.”

A thought occurs to him.

“Uh… so… how are we supposed to get back up to Kadara Port?”


	4. A Cloak of Persian Leather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyes is going to be the death of him, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My work week just started - on night two of it now. So updates might be slower in coming since I don't have as much time to start, at least until I'm off again in 5 days. I'll try to stay consistent, though.
> 
> I'm not too sure about this chapter, or its title. I wrote down all the titles and the order and had a vague outline but as I write the story, of course the outline changes and so do the titles, so... meh. We'll see how it goes later.
> 
> I didn't want to spend too much time on the game plot; I'll focus on it when I need to.
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments!! <3

_ Chapter Four: A Cloak of Persian Leather _

 

It will take at least a day for the secondary, back-up elevator to be made functional. That leaves Scott trapped in Kadara’s slums for the night, without his team. Reyes finds a doctor to help patch him up from his fall, and then leads him away from Tartarus, out into the badlands, away from the safety of the mountain. Scott is aware his armor is cracked, he lost one of his weapons in the fall, and despite the medi-gel in his system, he still aches everywhere. He is in no mood for a fight.

Still, Reyes is his only option right now, so he follows him. It’s about a twenty minute walk to another structure, built similarly to the one in the slums. Reyes moves like he knows the place; he’s aware of the security cameras, and easily avoids them even as he pays them no mind. Scott files this away for further study, when he’s not so tired and sore. Reyes enters a series of codes which grant him entry to the building, and the step inside.

Inside, the air is cool and controlled, not hot like it is on Kadara. It is late evening now; they remained at Tartarus for quite some time, while the doctor checked him out and Scott made contact with his crew to let them know he was okay. Vetra and Drack promised to use their contacts to look around the elevator and investigate the fall; Scott told them to be careful, and never go anywhere alone.

That was his mistake. He left alone. In hindsight, that was a terrible idea, but at the time it made sense. He was just going down to meet Reyes; it shouldn’t be that difficult or take that long. So he didn’t ask anyone to go with him, or even tell them he was leaving, which, again, in hindsight… yeah, a shitty idea. But he’s not used to people worrying about him, or wondering where he is, or trying to protect him, or-

He’s just not used to it. It’s going to take more time for him to accept it all – he thought he was getting better, but maybe not.

He exhales slowly, rolling his shoulders with the breath. Everything is stiff, achy – it hurts. Reyes gestured to a door off to the side of the large, spacious room they’re in. It’s some kind of living room, Scott thinks as he sees the couch. Does Reyes live here? He doesn’t ask; they’ll be time for questions once he’s slept and isn’t as sore. He heads for the door Reyes gestured at, and pushes it open to find himself in a tiny bedroom. The bed is massive, and takes up the majority of the room; there is barely space to maneuver around it.

It looks comfortable.

Scott looks over his shoulder, but Reyes isn’t behind him. He glances around the room once more, and notices that it appears used. There’s a dirty pair of pants off to the side, in the space between the bed and the wall. Inhaling deeply, the room smells like Tartarus’ back room. Like Reyes.

He steps out of the room, feeling like an intruder. Reyes is sitting on the couch in the living room, rubbing at his eyes. He’s lost his jacket and weapon; the pistol is nearby but is sitting on the table next to the couch instead of attached to him. He looks tired, from Scott’s position.

“I’m not stealing your room,” Scott informs him, causing Reyes to startle and look up. “I appreciate it, but I’ll take the couch.”

“You would refuse my amazing bed?” Reyes asks, smirking.

Scott’s too tired to joke around. “I’ll take the couch. Thank you, for housing me; you didn’t have to.”

“What else would I do? Leave you to run around without supervision?” Reyes asks, quirking a brow at him. “We’ve seen how well that works out.”

Scott snorts, sitting heavily on the couch, next to Reyes. “It’s not like I _planned_ for that to happen.”

“And why would you? It was foolish. And Pathfinders aren’t supposed to be foolish.”

Scott exhales slowly. “Absolutely not.”

Reyes watches him for a moment. Scott’s not look at him, but he can feel his gaze nevertheless. “I’ve hit a nerve. I apologize.”

Now Scott looks at him, frowning. _How did you know?_ “Did I break the universe? You’re actually apologizing? You – who left me with the tab?”

“And kept you out of an ambush,” Reyes throws back. “Does that count for nothing?”

Scott smirks. “I’ll accept your apology if you go sleep in your bed and let me take the couch.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Reyes sighs, smirking back. “But my bed is comfy and I can hear it calling me. You win this round.”

Scott smiles triumphantly, and starts removing his armor. It’s a slow, painful process, since everything is so sore – who knew falling could hurt so much – but eventually he gets down to his black underclothes. He shivers, unburdened from all the protection. He feels naked in a strange place.

Reyes returns to the room with a bundle of blankets. Scott accepts them with a nod of thanks, and as he’s putting the blankets down to make his couch-bed, he feels eyes on him. Another shiver inches down his spine, and he glances over his uninjured shoulder to find Reyes watching him, gaze traveling up, then down, and back up again…

Scott’s face burns. “Do you like what you see?”

Reyes smiles. “I’m not unappreciative of the finer things. Having a handsome man sharing my abode isn’t the worst thing.”

 _He thinks I’m handsome?_ Scott swallows, face burning more. “Hah – yeah, um…” His gaze skitters away. He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. Words fail him.

“I have flustered you,” Reyes says, smirk evident in his voice. “I did not think that was possible.”

“I’m not flustered,” Scott snaps reflexively.

“Is it just hot in here? Is that why your face is red?”

“It’s not red.”

“I’m not color blind, but maybe you are if you say that’s not red.”

_I’m going to kill him._

Scott draws in a slow, deep breath. “I’m not blushing.”

“And I thought _I_ was the liar,” Reyes laughs. He has a nice laugh. Scott thinks, vaguely, that he should do it more. When he’s not picking on people, of course.

“Can we just – change the subject, please?” Scott asks pathetically, still not looking at the smug smuggler. “You have a – nice place, here.”

“And the lies continue,” Reyes chuckles.

“I’m not lying,” Scott says, scowling even as he continues fixing the covers on the couch, despite the fact they are already splayed perfectly. “It’s nice. Homey.”

“It is what it is.”

“It’s nice,” Scott says again. _Oh God. Help, SAM. What the fuck is wrong with me?_

**_There is nothing wrong with you, Pathfinder. Although, your heartrate is elevated._ **

“I should – sleep,” he says, nodding to himself. “Yeah. Sleep. And you should – sleep. Over there. In your room.” _Not here. Where you can keep picking on me._

“Very well, Pathfinder,” Reyes says.

Scott winces, too tired – and scrambled – to stop the reaction. “Don’t… call me that.”

“Hmm?”

“Pathfinder,” Scott says. “Just – don’t. I’m not. I’m just Scott.”

He’s the Pathfinder by title, but he never trained for it. He never wanted this. He’s not the Pathfinder – he’s just… _something_ , for the time being.

 ** _You are the Pathfinder, and you are doing well,_** SAM tells him.

He feels eyes on him, and glances over to find Reyes watching him, a thoughtful frown on his face.

“Okay,” Reyes says finally, nodding. A smile flits across his face. “Scott.”

He kind of likes the way Reyes says his name. He has that accent; his lips twist around the word so smoothly. Scott nods, quickly looking back at the couch.

“Goodnight, Reyes.”

xXx

Scott doesn’t sleep more than a few hours, despite his exhaustion.

His body is tired but his mind is afire with prickling doubts. The little sleep he does get is riddled with nightmares, whispers of his failures, foreboding images of a future that might happen, in which he ultimately fails everyone and dies alone.

He’s not sure what to do with himself, after he gives up on sleep. It’s still hours until sunrise, and the elevator won’t be fixed until around midday, so he’s stuck here for a while. It feels wrong to go snooping through Reyes’ house but in the end, he gets up to explore. He’s not snooping; just looking around. Anything out in the open is fair game.

There are no pictures in the house. He finds that a little odd, but then again, this is a new galaxy – there probably aren’t pictures of fond memories. He’s remembering his home, though, and the way his mother always had pictures of the family on the wall. All separate photos, because they were never together at the same time, except for a rare few occasions – his mother’s last few days being one of them.

He tries not to think about it.

He finds the kitchen, and starts rifling through the cabinets. Perhaps food will settle his stomach, but somehow, he doubts it. He tries to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake Reyes. Even so, he must be too loud, because as he moves away from the refrigerator, he comes face to face with a gun. After the initial panic sets in, he manages to look past the gun and at the bleary-eyed smuggler blinking away sleep.

“Hey,” he says slowly, offering a cautious smile, “it’s me. I don’t really wanna be shot.”

He can feel SAM stirring in his mind; he’s not sure if the AI sleeps or just goes offline for a while, but sometimes he isn’t completely active in his mind, and other times, Scott swears he can feel him _moving_. It should probably feel unnerving – most of the time, it doesn’t.

Reyes blinks. “Ryder,” he says slowly. “Scott.”

“Yep, that’s me,” Scott says with a nod, holding his hands up harmlessly. He is only wearing his underclothes and socks; he’s completely harmless, and unarmed, should a fight arise. He doesn’t think Reyes will try to shoot him – but he’s been wrong about people before.

The gun drops. Reyes’ gaze skitters away. “Sorry. I am unused to… people being here.”

“You don’t have much company, do you?”

“No one,” Reyes says, shaking his head.

Scott chews his lip thoughtfully. “Thank you,” he says finally, causing Reyes to look at him again. “For trusting me enough to bring me here. You don’t know me, so… Thank you.”

“Well,” Reyes says, shrugging. “You don’t seem like the type to kill people in their sleep.”

“Not really my style,” Scott agrees with a small smile. “They frown on that in Pathfinder school.”

He can see the curiosity enter Reyes’ eyes, but the smuggler keeps his mouth shut about whatever topic piqued his interest. “Were you hungry?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Scott admits sheepishly. “Sorry for rifling through your things.”

“I have nothing to hide,” Reyes says with a smirk.

 _Somehow, I seriously doubt that,_ Scott thinks, even as he shrugs. “Did I wake you?”

“I heard movement,” is all Reyes says, but those words tell him a lot.

Reyes isn’t used to having people here; he never brings people here. This is his private place; his home. His sanctuary. He doesn’t have visitors. Scott feels oddly touched to be brought here, even if they don’t really know each other, and he knows Reyes only brought him here because there were few other options. For some reason, Reyes wants to help him, and Scott isn’t going to smack the helping hand away. Especially when the alternative was to stay at Tartarus all night.

“Are you hungry?” Reyes asks again.

Scott shrugs. “Well – yeah?”

As a biotic, he has to eat more than others. This isn’t a problem on the ship, as there are other biotics there as well, and Lexi is quite stubborn when it comes to their calorie intake. They have plenty of food, and calorie bars. Stuck planet-side with a near-complete stranger… yeah, he’s hungry.

He's hungry, but he has no appetite. Food won’t help settle his mind, but it will make his stomach stop trying to eat itself. Hopefully.

Reyes moves across the kitchen, entering Scott’s personal space. Scott fights the instinct to throw his arms up, and either protect himself or shove the intruder away. Instead, he keeps his hands firmly at his sides, and holds his breath. Reyes is only reaching past him, for the refrigerator. He looks inside at the contents, then sighs.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much,” Reyes says.

“It’s okay. I don’t need to eat. I can wait.”

“I’d be a terrible host if I didn’t feed you.”

“And I’d be a terrible guest if I ate everything,” Scott retorts, shaking his head. Reyes is still a little too close; he can smell the man’s aftershave and typical musk. He exhales slowly; he’s pinned against the counter, with Reyes blocking freedom. “I can just – go back to sleep.”

“You said you couldn’t sleep,” Reyes says. “Because of hunger?”

“No,” he says honestly.

Now Reyes is looking at him, from only a few inches away, and this room is too small. His x-ray eyes watch him, seeing without looking; Scott feels exposed – naked. And now he’s all too aware of the fact he is only wearing his underclothes. He looks away from the prying eyes, at the countertop. There’s a stain there, just off to the side.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Scott says. “I’ll be quieter, if you want to go back to sleep.”

“I have ingredients for sandwiches, in the bare minimum of the word,” Reyes tells him.

Scott wants to tell him he doesn’t need to stay up to watch him.

Another part of him is grateful for the company.

xXx

Being back on the _Tempest_ is both reassuring and disappointing. A part of Scott almost liked being on Kadara; a part of him enjoyed the company. Another part of him is happy he’s not stranded anymore, and he’s safe on his ship. That brings with it other problems, though.

There is still the matter of the attack on his life; he almost died. Lexi keeps hounding him for a visit, but honestly, he’s fine and he doesn’t need to talk about it. Suvi keeps trying to talk to him about near-death experiences, and how she’s there if he wants to talk, but seriously – no. He’s fine. He’s fine as long as he doesn’t think about how close he came to dying. He’s fine as long as he doesn’t think about freefalling.

He’s fine.

Reyes assured him he was going to look into the matter discretely – whatever that means. A part of Scott is dubious; he has no real reason to trust the smuggler, other than the fact he seems to be on Scott’s side and he did house him for a night. Scott wants to trust him, but there’s this little voice in the back of his head that says he shouldn’t.

He ignores it.

Reyes is going to look into things on Kadara, and keep tabs on Sloane, as best as he can. Scott doesn’t ask how he has access to any information about Sloane’s whereabouts, since Sloane runs the place; Reyes has contacts, and that’s good enough for now.

In the meantime, though, they’re due back at the Nexus; Tann wants to discuss the vault on Kadara, and how that could change relations with the exiles. He doesn’t sound thrilled to have the possibility of them open to him, but he’s at least willing to discuss the matter, which Scott thinks is progress. Before, Tann had nothing but bad things to say about the exiles; now he says there might be a chance for them after all. He has no basis for this, of course; the exiles have done absolutely nothing to change his mind, but he thinks the exiles owe them for fixing their ‘waste of a planet’, and so Tann thinks negotiations can begin. It’s a losing tactic, doomed from the start, because the exiles owe them nothing: they never asked to be saved.

Scott feels good about the vault on Kadara, though. They fixed another planet; it’s proof it is possible, and proof yet again that his father didn’t die for nothing. Now if only his sister could see this. If only Sara could be part of this. Scott misses her every day, and at least visiting the Nexus will give him a chance to see her again, even if he can’t talk to her. Well, he can talk, but there’s no guarantee she’ll be listening, and she can’t answer him. It’d be nice to just hear her voice again, to know she’s okay, and she’ll wake up soon.

SAM has nothing but reassurances when Scott asks about his sister’s condition. He says she is receiving the best possible help, and her vitals are stable. Every so often Scott asks SAM to check on her implant – to make sure he can still connect with her, that she’s still there. SAM doesn’t question him, and just does as he’s asked, relaying the information to Scott. Yes, Sara is still there; yes, her implant is working properly. No, she is not ready to wake.

One day, Scott thinks. One day, she’ll wake up and he won’t be alone anymore.

Until then, at least he has SAM.

 _Are you… happy, with me?_ he asks SAM on the way back to the Nexus.

 ** _I do not understand the question,_** SAM replies, as evasive as ever.

Scott should just drop it. He can’t. _I mean – are you happy with me? Or are you just stuck with me? I mean… I guess I don’t know what I mean. Never mind. Forget I asked._

He tries to busy himself with responding to his emails – word has spread about Kadara’s vault, and now everyone is congratulating him and wanting to meet with him and it’s disorientating – but he can feel SAM in the back of his mind, ever-present and shifting, like an impatient, nagging thought.

 ** _I am not unhappy with you,_** SAM finally says. **_I do not understand ‘happy’ as you would. However, I am content._**

Scott’s shoulders relax ever so slightly. He exhales, unaware he was holding his breath, and acknowledges another email. _I bet Dad was easier to deal with. He knew what he was doing, at least._

 ** _You’re learning,_** SAM says. **_There is no harm in learning. Even your father didn’t know everything. And my relationship with him was different than it is with you._**

_Easier._

**_No. Alec Ryder was a complicated man, with many secrets. Even I could not access them, despite us sharing a mind and body for years. I learned from him, and your mother, but I learn more still from you. It is different, but that does not mean it is bad._ **

_So you’re… happy with me?_

He’s not a disappointment?

He’s not sure why this matters to him so much, but suddenly it’s all he can think about. He doesn’t want to keep letting people down, especially SAM. They have to share a mind, after all; upsetting the AI in his head isn’t the best idea.

**_I am content._ **

It’s still evasive in its own way, but in that moment, it’s enough.

xXx

They’re a few hours from the Nexus when Reyes vid-calls him.

“Hey,” Scott says to the hologram of Reyes Vidal. “What’s up? Learn anything juicy?”

“Not about your Sloane problems, but I did get a lead on the murders,” Reyes tells him.

Scott nods. “Tell me.”

“There was a new murder – a krogan. They wanted him to suffer before he died. I was wondering if you could look over the scene when you return to Kadara, with your scanner.”

“Who says I’m coming back to Kadara?”

Reyes smirks. “As if you could stay away.”

“You think you’re charming,” Scott says. “You’re not nearly as charming as you think you are.”

“We shall see,” Reyes says. “When can I expect you, so you don’t fall out of elevators again?”

Scott huffs. “You act like I did that on purpose.”

“Well, you were alone – foolish, if you ask me.”

“No one asked you.”

“Perhaps someone should have, and I would have told them that was a stupid idea.”

“I don’t need a lecture from you, okay?”

“You need a lecture from someone,” Reyes says, rolling his eyes. “Or at least better survival instincts. I thought you had a fancy AI in your head? Doesn’t it give you pointers?”

“I was fine until the elevator decided to fall,” Scott mutters.

“Yes, because the elevator is sentient now.”

_Stupid Reyes and his stupidly smug face and his stupid – fuck. SAM. I need words. Other than stupid._

SAM remains quiet.

“Look, just – give me the nav-point and I’ll put it on my list of things to do when I get back,” Scott says, scowling.

Reyes grins. “That’s my boy.”

Scott is _not_ blushing. He’s happy holograms don’t show changes like that. Because he’s totally not fucking blushing, he’s not a fucking teenager. “I at least rate as ‘man’, don’t I?”

The grin widens, turning downright predatory. “That’s my man.”

_Oh boy._

xXx

The Nexus is the same as he left it, except more people are awake. It’s more crowded than the first time he arrived. The first thing he does is make is way toward the Ark Hyperion to check on his sister. According to Dr. Carlyle, her status hasn’t changed; she’s stable, but still in a medically induced coma. Her vitals look good, but she’ll have to wake on her own. It could take a while.

 _It’s already been a while,_ he thinks helplessly, looking down at Sara’s slack face. He brushes back a few of her stubborn bangs, and is happy at least someone is looking after her, even if he can’t be here to do it himself. She is clean, and her hair is soft; someone is taking good care of her. She’s in good hands.

Somehow, it doesn’t make him feel better. Instead, he just feels angry.

That’s _his_ job. He’s supposed to look after her, not people he doesn’t even know. Not strangers. That’s his fucking sister, his twin, and he should be here for her, not – out there. Not out there looking for a new fucking _home_ for everyone. Not out there fixing planets.

 _You’d be so much better at this than me… I miss you,_ he thinks, sitting with her for a little while.

He only leaves when SAM informs him he has a meeting with Director Tann. He knows; he just wants to avoid it a little longer, and sit here in silence.

He leaves his sister after giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, and makes his way out of the Hyperion and through Nexus, toward Tann’s office.

Hopefully Tann’s in a friendly mood, and not an argumentative one.

xXx

They stay on the Nexus only long enough to refuel and get supplies. Two days later, they are sent back out to investigate a strange signal in another cluster. The Scourge is blocking their readings, but something is out there. Scott agrees to investigate, mostly because it’s already been chosen for him, and this is an order, not a request.

One minute they ask his opinion on something, like it’s fucking important he has an input, and then the next minute they’re ordering him around like he has no say over anything. It’s confusing, and he’s tired of the back-and-forth. He’s tired of being confused. He’s tired of being tired. He’s just – tired.

Sleep doesn’t help.

Lexi wants to keep giving him sedatives for the time being, but they are only a short-term solution, she says. Sooner or later, he’s going to have to deal with his problems and come up with a better solution. He chooses later, and they don’t speak of it again. He hates the sedatives, but at least they keep him functional, even if he does have a headache every time he wakes up.

When they leave in the _Tempest_ , he’s quietly secluded himself in his room after plotting their course for their pilot to follow. Kallo is to contact him if there are any problems, but he doubts there will be, at least for a while. If they encounter problems, it will be when they leave this cluster and arrive in the other, he’s certain. He has a good day before that happens. They aren’t going their fastest because it’s not extremely urgent; they don’t have to push themselves right now, so they are going nice and steady but taking their time. The crew needs time now and then to unwind, anyway.

A lot of them seem to like it well enough on the ship. Scott is not one of them.

He’s never minded space, or ships, before. He’s been fine on them. But then, he slept in the crew quarters – he didn’t have his own room. He wasn’t in charge. He only followed orders and did as he was told. Now, everything is different, and even though it’s been about a month and a half since this position was _pushed at him_ , he’s still not getting used to it. He should be used to it by now, he’s sure, but he’s not.

He still flinches when Kallo calls him to the bridge. He still winces, at least internally, when someone calls him Pathfinder. Sometimes he still jumps when SAM speaks in his mind.

Sometimes he thinks he’s losing his mind.

Sometimes… he can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

_Is it even still my mind to lose…_

xXx

He’s on the bridge when all hell breaks loose, only because he was checking on progress. Otherwise he would have still been in his room, most likely. But he’s on the bridge, and has a first-hand view of the large ship in front of them, when the _Tempest_ screeches to a halt, jarring him forward. He staggers and keeps his grip tight on the console in front of him.

A face appears on the vid-screen, contacting them from the other ship.

It’s an alien – a kett.

 ** _The Archon_** , SAM says.

The Archon is the leader of the kett in this area – that’s all that Scott knows about him. They’ve stopped a few of his operations on Eos, and he’s gathered enough information to know, vaguely, who the Archon is and what he stands for – but that’s as far as it goes. He knows very little about this alien, or why he would be stopping their ship or contacting them.

He knows it’s not good. They’re being held in place by some kind of field. SAM informs him he’s working on a way to break them loose. He’s never been so grateful to have SAM in his head and in the ship.

The Archon starts talking about ‘telling him how he did it’, but Scott has no idea what he’s talking about. He tells the kett as much. The Archon is not pleased; he says he’ll tear it out of his mind one way or another. He also threatens all the Milky Way creatures. Scott just decides the Archon’s crazy, and leaves it at that.

He keeps him talking for a few minutes longer, giving SAM ample time to release them from the stasis field.

The second they’re free, Scott orders Kallo to get them out of there.

They shoot through the Scourge, narrowly avoiding tendrils of death. Behind them, the Archon’s ships pursue them but unsuccessfully navigate through the Scourge. They crash. In space, explosions make no sound. It’s so silent – everything is so silent, like one’s death doesn’t even matter.

They come out the other side, free from the kett, at least for the time being. Scott releases a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding until now; they just escaped the Archon. Narrowly. That could have gone another way entirely; they could all be dead now. But they’re alive, they made it through the Scourge somehow, and now they’re…

Where are they?

There are planets he’s never seen, but of course he hasn’t seen them: this is a new galaxy. Even so, he knows they’re in a new cluster.

Suddenly ships are surrounding them again.

All he can think is, _Oh, here we go again._

xXx

“If I die horribly, even if it’s _hilarious_ , please erase the vids,” Scott says with a smirk as he departs the _Tempest_ , alone, and without weapons or armor. SAM tells him it’s a terrible idea, but he doesn’t really have a choice this time.

The angara aren’t happy they’re here. They’re willing to tolerate them for the time being, but they want to meet with their ‘leader’ alone. So he has to go alone, and without weapons. He has to get first contact right. Even though this isn’t really first contact, considering the fact there were angara on Kadara and they’ve already met the Milky Way species. Maybe this way, though, they can meet officially, and they can unite against the kett.

It’s wishful thinking, but right now it’s all he has.

He steps off the ship, hands above his head, palms splayed open to show he’s harmless. Immediately guns are pointing at him. An angara steps forward, looking him from head to toe. He can only imagine what they see.

“Take this one to Evfra,” the angaran says. The translator stumbles briefly over the words, but in the end it all becomes clear in his mind.

“Don’t try anything, _alien_ ,” another angara says, as he’s shoved down a walkway. He puts his hands down slowly, because his shoulders are starting to ache. Guns follow his every movement.

“Follow only after me,” the angara leading him says. “Do not make any other movements. Do not do anything else. Only follow me and do not lag behind.”

Scott nods, even though the angara isn’t looking at him anymore. He follows closely behind them, looking around briefly. There are waterfalls; they instantly capture his attention.

The barrel of a gun jabs painfully into the back of his ribs. “Eyes forward, alien.”

He winces and turns his gaze forward.

 ** _This plan is reckless,_** SAM informs him. **_They could kill you._**

He swallows. _Yeah, well – what else was I supposed to do? If I said no they would have just attacked the ship, and we’re already limping after that trek through the Scourge, so… it’s not like we have a lot of options here._

SAM remains silent.

Somehow, it doesn’t feel like a victory.

xXx

Jaal Ama Darav is a mouthful to say, but Liam says it easily enough. Scott can’t get his mouth to work around the sounds well enough for him to say it properly – so he just calls him Jaal. Jaal is their newest member – even if he is just staying with them to study the Milky Way species. He’s basically spying on them for Evfra and the Angaran Resistance, but really, Scott’s okay with that because they have nothing to hide. Also, Jaal is willing to help them fight the kett, which is more than they could say for anyone else on the planet Aya.

They leave early the next day, after the ship has been repaired enough that they can travel safely. The angara are impatient to get them off their planet; they offer help for their ship, supplies and everything. Scott is happy for the help, even if their intentions are… _less_.

Gil also put in a lot of work. He’s basically the reason this ship is working right now.

According to the bags under his eyes and the way he keeps staring into space, Scott thinks Gil sleeps even less than he does, which is saying something.

So it’s really no surprise when they run into each other again, quite literally – again.

“Fuck, sorry,” Scott says as they steady themselves. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

Gil blinks slowly, looking tired. “No worries. I wasn’t paying attention either.”

“You got the ship running real smooth,” Scott says with a smile. “Even Kallo admitted it.”

Gil laughs, expression brightening. “Well, that _is_ high praise.”

Scott shrugs. He still hasn’t heard the story between Kallo and Gil, or their animosity toward each other, but that’s okay. Unless it becomes a problem, he doesn’t have to know.

“Hey,” Gil says, suddenly smirking. “You play poker?”

xXx

They need to head back to the Nexus for ‘offical’ repairs – _which leaves Gil grumbling_ – but they head toward Kadara instead, because Scott made a promise and he keeps his promises. Empty promises – _lies_ – are the worst.

When he steps off the ship this time, he has an angara and krogan as back-up. Jaal looks at Kadara Port strangely; this is one of his people’s planets, but he doesn’t seem to like it here. He sticks close to Scott and doesn’t speak to anyone silly enough to get in their way.

They head down into the slums – the elevators are in ‘tip-top’ shape. Even so, Scott prepares himself to jump down a mountain again. He’s not sure how that will work with two others with him – but he prepares himself nevertheless.

It’s not necessary; the elevator is indeed working fine.

Once in the slums, they head to Tartarus.

Reyes is in the back room, as always. He grins when Scott enters, with Drack and Jaal keeping watch outside the room. “There’s my man,” Reyes says, smirking.

Scott huffs, scowling at him. “I don’t recall being yours.” He sits next to Reyes. “Tell me about the latest victim.”

Reyes does. The krogan’s shell was torn back before he was killed by a knife. It’s gruesome, and a painful way to go. Scott winces as Reyes describes the murder; these people need to pay. He pushes to his feet, nodding at the smuggler.

“I’ll check it out,” he promises.

xXx

It’s been a week since they left Kadara. In that time, the acidity levels have decreased dramatically, although at the moment, the water is still dangerous to the touch. Scott learns this when he slips while climbing a rocky ledge, and his foot barely enters the pretty-blue water. Steam instantly arises, his shields fail, and there’s pain in his foot. He jumps away as fast as he can, limping briefly, before SAM injects medi-gel into his system, healing the minor wound.

“Well,” Scott says dryly, “let’s not do that again.”

**_I advise against further contact with the water._ **

_Yeah. Never liked swimming much anyway._

**_That is fortunate._ **

They’re attacked several times by nearby exiles – even though they have tried to fix the planet, the exiles still hate them. That’s okay. Scott didn’t enter the vault to be liked. It honestly doesn’t matter to him. However, he would prefer not to be attacked around every corner when all he’s trying to do is investigate a series of murders.

By the time they make it to the designated location, half a day has been wasted navigating hills of Kadara.

They finally do make it, though.

Scott raises his arm, using his scanner to look over the crime scene. The body is still there on the ground; that poor krogan. He thinks of Drack, just behind him, and wonders what his krogan ally is thinking. Drack remains quiet throughout the investigation as they walk through the house and discover angaran-shaped footprints. Jaal is not pleased about this; he does not agree with the Roekaar, at all. He calls them violent and uncontrolled. This just sickens him. He’s very forthcoming about his emotions; apparently it’s a trait all angarans share. It’s what makes the Roekaar so dangerous; the angara wear their hearts on their sleeves, and the hatred is raw and real. How can he fight against pure, raw emotion?

They discover the footprints, the body, and the knife left behind in the killers’ haste to get away. There more than one set of footprints, all angaran. On the handle of the knife used, words are written in the angaran language. SAM informs him that all the evidence does indeed point to Reyes’ theory regarding the Roekaar.

Good – Scott doesn’t want to stay here longer than he has to.

As they step outside, though, there’s a group of people – humans, krogan, asari – waiting for them. They don’t look happy, and the come equipped with weapons all pointed at Scott and his team.

 _SAM?_ Scott asks, heart racing.

**_They are utilizing scramblers; I see them only with your eyes._ **

“The Charlatan sends their regards,” one of them says, and then they open fire.


	5. Pull Back the Curtains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's in trouble. 
> 
> But Reyes Vidal has never shied away from trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I agonized over this chapter the whole time I was writing it. I started it twice. I erased entire parts and rewrote them, or ditched them entirely. 
> 
> This chapter is in Reyes' POV, because - I wanted to switch things up. I guess. We'll get back to Scott's POV soon, either next chapter or the one after. This just frees me up to go into Reyes' POV later on, and also to show what's going through his head since he's a little more put together than Scott is at the moment. A little. We all know Reyes is broken inside. 
> 
> Anyway - thanks so much for all the comments and everything!! They kept me going when I thought of putting this away. This chapter was hard to write, but knowing you guys wanted more motivated me, so... thanks! Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!
> 
> (PS: The bit with Drack at the beginning of this chapter - I have that written in Scott's POV too, because I couldn't figure out how to start this chapter for a while, so xD)
> 
> (PPS: I just found out I have tonight off, so I have 3 nights off in a row now. I'm so happy. I would have gone in tonight and worked, too, if a coworker hadn't checked the schedule and seen I wasn't on there for tonight. This is what happens when you have a set schedule and therefore never check it: you don't realize when something changes. But yay! More writing time!)

_ Chapter Five: Pull Back the Curtains _

 

Reyes Vidal is a man of secrets. It’s kept him alive his entire life, most especially here in Andromeda. He came here for a fresh start, but failing that, his secrets are all that he is. He is nothing but a culmination of the things he never says. Because of this, many see him in different ways. To most, he is a smuggler, and all that entails: he lies, he cheats, he haggles and strikes deals. He’s a criminal. A bad man. The kind not wanted on this trek to a new galaxy, but he’s here all the same. Unlike the others, who started out with ambitions of greatness and fell to tragedy, earning them a spot on this toxic planet, he started with little promise, little aspiration for ‘good’, and fell to something – _other._ He has no real name for it. On Kadara, he isn’t good, he isn’t bad. He simply _is_. And like everyone else, he is trying to survive.

So when the human Pathfinder came waltzing into Kadara Port, of course he took notice. He, like others, were curious: they thought all the Pathfinders were gone, or, failing that, were simply lies made up to appease them in the first place. The thought that they are actually real, and are finally here, is breathtaking. So he watched from the sidelines, and waited. While waiting, he spotted trouble brewing. People were following the Pathfinder, waiting to strike. He could only assume, at the time, they were Sloane’s people. So he got the Pathfinder’s attention, and warned him.

He expected it to stop there. He really did.

He did his civic duty. He offered a helping hand, as their correspondence could be beneficial to both of them. He warned the Pathfinder he was being watched. And later, he even stopped an ambush attempt, and to be honest he’s not sure why he bothered.

Maybe it’s a broken piece of his core trying to put itself back together – some broken _thing_ trying to fix whatever he’s become. After he was freshly thawed from cryo, he believed in the Initiative, however brief that belief might have been. He did believe. He _wanted_ to believe. He tried. For a few weeks he tried to be good, but as things kept getting worse, and no Pathfinders revealed themselves – the willingness faded, and when the uprising happened, he tried to stay out of it… but in the end, he was always a bad guy.

He joined the exiles on Kadara.

Now he has a name for himself – Reyes Vidal, smuggler extraordinaire.

In the Milky Way, he was the same.

Maybe that’s okay – but he came here for a change, not more of the same.

The murders have been happening off and on for a few months now; they are getting more violent, and many on Kadara Port are getting worried. Sloane won’t waste resources to investigate the ‘inevitable murders’ – they are a group of thieves and criminals, _exiles_ , so the likelihood of death is ever-growing. Reyes wants to help investigate the murders, if only because he sees a pattern in the killings. He tried to bring his theory to Sloane, once, but that failed. She wouldn’t listen to a half-rate smuggler.

So the Pathfinder was his only remaining option.

When he first pulled the Pathfinder aside to discuss matters, he wasn’t expecting much of anything. Perhaps for the Pathfinder to accept the offer so he could be better liked and have more sway on Kadara, but he didn’t want any of that. He said he only wanted the vault – he wanted no recognition, he had no desire to be liked, he just wanted to fix the planet and be on his way. And Reyes believed him.

Scott Ryder is many things, Reyes knows, but a liar isn’t one of them.

It’s almost – refreshing, if Reyes is being honest with himself.

He’s surrounded by liars all the time – even in his own mind. To realize the Pathfinder – Scott – is whole-heartedly telling the truth leaves a weight lifting from somewhere deep inside of him.

It’s like catching his breath for the first time.

And so – when another attempt inevitably happens upon Scott’s life, Reyes accepts him into his home, a place he has never brought anyone before, not even Zia, his ex-lover. Not even his only real friend, Keema, has been inside his home. Not because he doesn’t trust her, but because – well, maybe that’s another lie. Maybe he _doesn’t_ trust her, not like this. He trusts her to feed him intel and have his back on most matters, but he can’t trust her not to lie to him, because Kadara Port is built on lies. To speak the truth is to admit defeat – the truth kills out here.

So when he hears another ambush has happened, outside the crime scene of the latest murder victim, he can’t help but hope that Scott doesn’t have to pay for his honest sincerity. He has developed a certain fondness for the naïve innocence the Pathfinder displays. Oh, he has jokes, and a snarky side – but at his core, he’s an honest man, and that, more than anything, draws Reyes to him.

Perhaps he sees the man he wants to be reflected in Scott’s eyes.

He knows Scott and his team have been ambushed again; he heard it over the comms, since Scott was ready to contact him, the words ‘you were right’ barely out of his mouth before he stopped suddenly.

_“The Charlatan sends their regards.”_

Those words sent a chill down his spine. He’s still shaking even now – out of anger, disbelief, something else, he’s not sure. He knows it’s not the Charlatan; it can’t be, because he _knows_ the Charlatan quite well, and he most certainly did not tell anyone to attack Scott Ryder.

Then he heard the sounds of gunfire, and everything cut out as the call finally ended.

So, by the time someone finally contacts him, he’s halfway to the nav-point of the latest murder, clad in his gear and amped for a fight.

Because _how dare they_.

He’s not sure what he’s most angry with: the fact the Charlatan put a hit out on Scott, or the fact _it wasn’t the Charlatan_ , but someone following false orders.

Because there’s one very important detail he’s kept from absolutely everyone.

He doesn’t just know the Charlatan.

He _is_ the Charlatan.

And he most certainly did not give any orders to attack the Pathfinder. When he finds who gave those orders, he will make them suffer.

But first, there’s a very _honest_ part of him that wants – _needs_ – to make sure Scott still lives.

Everything else can wait.

xXx

Seeing the Pathfinder in the krogan’s arms is definitely not what Reyes was expecting. The blood covering Scott’s armor, and Drack’s by default, yes, he was expecting that. But not for Drack to be carrying a very limp Scott, with the Pathfinder’s head resting against the krogan’s large chest.

For one brief moment, Reyes fears the worst: Scott is dead. A falling elevator couldn’t take him out, but an ambush while he investigated something for Reyes… that’s what did it.

Then Scott opens his eyes, like he can feel Reyes’ gaze on him. The blue-gray orbs aren’t as clear as they normally are – not as open and honest and sincere. They’re dark and cloudy, fogged by fatigue and pain.

Scott smiles tiredly. “Hey, you.”

“You look comfy,” Reyes says, quirking a brow.

“Not my idea. But, you know – krogans are stubborn.”

“Are you hurt?” It is a silly question: of course he is hurt.

“Ryder took a shot to the side,” the purple angara – _Jaal_ , Reyes thinks his name is – says from next to the krogan. “We require assistance.”

“I can walk you know,” Scott says petulantly, under his breath.

Reyes very seriously doubts that, due to the droop in his eyes and the pallor of his face. He looks an inch away from passing out and possibly dying. Reyes leads the way back toward Tartarus, ignoring the half-hearted complaints of the injured Pathfinder.

His jokes don’t work nearly as well when he’s not at 100% health.

xXx

This is the second time the Pathfinder has wound up injured while corresponding with Reyes. It niggles at his mind, an unpleasant thought – _is he being watched_? By his own people? Of course, no one knows he’s the Charlatan except Keema, but she won’t tell a soul. He has a lot of representatives that do his work – he just gives the final order or nudges them in the direction he wants. Right now his main goal is to steal Kadara Port from Sloane’s reign of tyranny, but that’s still a ways away. He’s trying to do it carefully, without putting her on the defensive, but for someone who seems to like violence as much as Sloane, she can be awfully crafty when she wants to be.

He doesn’t like the thought that he’s being watched by his own people, but even more unpleasant is the thought that his own people are watching Scott by watching him. He can fight his own battles; he won’t drag someone else into it.

Is Scott being targeted because he’s the Pathfinder and people here still don’t like the Initiative, even though the Pathfinder fixed the planet’s vault – or are they after him because of his association with Reyes. What put him on this group’s radar?

More chilling is the fact someone is impersonating him. A few have tried in the past, but never succeeded. They were soon dealt with. Now, though – whoever is impersonating him is sending out hit teams. Now that entire team is dead. Worse, the Pathfinder could have died, and an all-out war with the Initiative could have started.

Currently, Scott is back on the _Tempest_ , being cared for by the ship’s doctor. Reyes is still down in Tartarus, trying to follow leads in the back of a run-down nightclub. It’s not the best seat of power but it’s served him well for a year now, so why change it?

He needs to track down who is impersonating him, and put a stop to it, before more people die.

xXx

“And he rises,” Reyes says with a smirk as he answers the vid-call with Scott.

Scott smiles. “Reluctantly,” he says. “But, you know – duty and all that. How are things down in the underworld?”

“Kadara is not nearly so lifeless,” Reyes says dismissively. “Yet.”

Scott laughs – he has a nice, open laugh. Reyes never shies away from what he likes, and he can admit that he does like Scott. He can look, but not touch. Touching would be bad.

“So,” Scott says, turning serious, mirth fading. He gains a good ten years when he frowns like that. “The Charlatan wants me dead.”

Reyes bites back his initial denial, and rethinks his words carefully. “It doesn’t seem like the Charlatan’s style,” he says finally. “They are more subtle than that. They would not order a direct hit, and besides – if they _did_ order a hit, it would be more discrete than a firing squad out in the badlands.”

“You seem to know a great deal about it all.”

“I have to,” Reyes says, shrugging. “I do live here, after all. I have to know the players to win the game.”

“So what can you tell me about the Charlatan, then? Why they might want me dead?”

“I do not think it’s them,” he says carefully. “And I don’t know much – no one does. It’s all cloak and dagger bullshit, honestly. No one has met the Charlatan; some theorize there _is_ no Charlatan.”

“So I’m fighting a ghost,” Scott mutters. “Fucking great.”

 _I am not fighting you,_ Reyes thinks, but he keeps his mouth shut because he knows admitting he’s the Charlatan is not a good idea, especially not after the Charlatan apparently ordered a hit on the Pathfinder. That’s a good way to meet an early grave.

“I’ll keep looking around,” Reyes assures him.

Scott smiles. “Thanks. You, uh – you don’t have to keep helping me. They could try to get to you, too.”

 _I would like to see them try._ “I’m not worried,” Reyes says, smirking. “I have survival instincts, unlike some people.”

Scott huffs in that adorable manner of his – and yes, he _is_ adorable. That’s the word Reyes has been looking for. He’s too _good_ for his own well-being, really. He’s everything Reyes shouldn’t be attracted to – yet it’s refreshing, and he’s not sure why. He knows this won’t end well. They can have no friendship, nor anything else, like this.

Not with _the Charlatan_ between them, and not with Reyes’ general line of work.

It’s a terrible idea.

But he’s a sucker for bad ideas.

“Hey,” he says, “I’m feeling thirsty. How about you?”

xXx

Scott is already at Kralla’s Song by the time Reyes arrives. It’s only been two days since he was shot; he shouldn’t be drinking, but he apparently doesn’t play by _all_ the rules. _Intersting,_ Reyes thinks as he approaches table where Scott has settled himself, with his back to the doorway. Honestly, he’s just asking for trouble at this point.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone,” Reyes says as he approaches the table.

Scott looks over at him and smiles. “Shitty pick-up line.”

“Who says it’s a pick-up line?”

“ _Please_. I’m right, aren’t I?”

Reyes scoffs, sitting across from the Pathfinder. “What are you drinking?”

“Evasive, huh? I win,” Scott snickers, before he looks back at his drink. “You know – I’m not really sure? The bartender just kind of flung it at me, and well, it’d be rude to let it spill so…”

Reyes sighs. He’d be more worried if he didn’t know Umi. She won’t poison the Pathfinder. But someone else might, which is why it’s not a very good idea to be accepting random beverages.

Scott Ryder has the survival instincts of a gnat.

Reyes lifts a finger at Umi’s inquisitive gaze, and she quickly brings him a drink similar to Scott’s. He thanks her with a smile and takes a long guzzle of the frothy liquid. It’s certainly not the best he’s ever had, but it’s tolerable, and on Kadara, that’s really one can hope for. He’s heard tale that Sloane is hoarding a stash of 600 year old whiskey, but he has no concrete proof yet. 600 year old alcohol sounds amazing.

“So,” he says, glancing at Scott again. The Pathfinder is already watching him, clear blue-gray eyes a far cry from the cloudy mess they were the last time they saw each other. He looks better. “You look better.” He doesn’t mean to say that aloud, but he’s seen and done too much to be shocked by his mouth anymore.

Scott shrugs. “I feel better,” he says. “I’m fine.”

“You certainly are,” Reyes says, smirking. Flirting with the human Pathfinder is turning into a favorite pastime of his. Scott either flirts back with snarky retorts, or he starts blushing and gets all awkward. Either way is fun for Reyes.

But it can’t be more than this. It can never be more than this.

Flirting with Scott is honestly a waste of his time – except he likes doing it.

There is too little that he likes as of late for him to stop now.

Scott glowers at him, cheeks reddening. “Is there a reason you invited me here? Do you have information?”

“Is that the only reason I could have for inviting you out?” Reyes asks, smirking.

The Pathfinder grows a little redder even as his gaze skitters away. “What other reason is there?” he asks slowly. “Don’t tell me you enjoy my company.”

“Fine – then I won’t,” Reyes says, shrugging. “But I’ll have you know you’re making me a liar.”

“Pfft – like you need help with that.”

Reyes smiles. Scott sighs.

“Fine,” Scott says. “This is – nice. I… enjoy your company too.”

 _So awkward._ Reyes’ grin sharpens. “I know. I’m amazing.”

“Confidence can turn into arrogance pretty fast,” Scott warns him dryly.

“You appreciate my confidence.”

“… How do you know?”

There are words Scott isn’t saying. Reyes chooses not to pry, just this once. It’s none of his business. “You’re an open book,” he tells the Pathfinder with a smirk. “Not that I mind open books. Book covers can be so heavy.”

“I think I need another drink.”

xXx

They’re both sufficiently inebriated when Scott asks him, “Why did you come to Andromeda?”

A slew of answers forms in Reyes’ mind, just on the tip of his tongue, but he bites them back because none of them are the truth. They are excuses – and he’s tired of excuses. Scott is open and honest and he deserves and honest answer, and Reyes is just tipsy enough to say it.

He draws in a slow breath, searching for the words. “To be someone,” he says quietly, gaze focused down on the tabletop instead of at Scott or around the room. In truth he sees nothing, flashes of his past flickering through his mind. A kid crying in the corner, starving and afraid; a teen nobody cares about, unwanted by everyone; a nobody, then and now.

There’s silence for a long time. For a brief moment he wonders if Scott ditched him because of his sentimental response.

Then Scott says, “You’re _are_ someone. To me.”

The breath leaves Reyes in a rush – he certainly never expected _that_. But it’s the truth, he knows, because not only is Scott in that pleasantly numb state of booze-filled honesty, but he’s always open and honest anyway.

When Reyes wanted to be someone… he never quite thought about being someone to _someone_. He just thought – no more anonymity. No more shadows. He can be someone.

“You don’t even know me,” he says, watching Scott carefully now. The Pathfinder is looking into the bottom of his nearly empty bottle like it contains all of Andromeda’s answers; Reyes can assure him it doesn’t.

“I don’t have to know you to… care about you,” Scott says with a shrug, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “You’ve had my back so far. You housed me, even though you didn’t have to. You’ve given me little reason to not trust you. I might not know all the specifics… but you’re still someone. You still matter. To me, at least.” Blue eyes lift, and Reyes is frozen in a pool of sincerity. The Pathfinder smiles. “You’re someone to me.”

A little broken piece of Reyes fits back together, a part of him he didn’t know was shattered. The smile he releases feel broken – but it’s been a long time since he wore a genuine smile. “Thank you,” he says with quiet sincerity, a tone he never uses.

“More drinks?”

Reyes chuckles faintly. “Of course. Umi! More drinks for my friend here!”

xXx

They stay at Kralla’s Song late into the night. They would have stayed longer if Drack didn’t come looking for the Pathfinder. The krogan ambles up to the table where Reyes and Scott are in a heated debate about cookies – Reyes says peanut butter cookies are the best thing in any galaxy; Scott swears by sugar cookies. Reyes calls him a sugar addict.

Drack interrupts as Scott is building a retort, a large hand clapping the Pathfinder on the shoulder.

“Didn’t take you for the drinking type, kid,” the krogan says when Scott looks at him.

“ ‘m not,” Scott says, slurring slightly.

“Uh huh,” Drack says skeptically. “I’m sure Reyes is just a bad influence on you.”

“Totally,” the Pathfinder agrees with a smile.

“I feel like I’ve been insulted,” Reyes says as coherently as he can. “Stop it.”

Scott snickers. “Just admit defeat, Vidal.”

“ _Never_.”

“Do I want to know?” Drack asks.

“No,” Reyes tells him, shaking his head. “We should – go.” Umi is starting to throw them looks, wanting to clean up before she closes down for the night.

“Hey,” Scott says, frowning deeply. “Can you make it to your place okay?”

“I’m fine,” Reyes says.

“The slur says otherwise,” Drack says, snickering as well. “All you humans are lightweights.”

“Come with me,” Scott says, watching Reyes.

A part of Reyes freezes. A foggy part of his brain whispers this is a terrible idea. The other part of his brain makes him smile as his voice lowers, “Why, Scott – on the first date?”

Scott’s face is red. Drack’s simultaneously groaning and laughing. The world is spinning. How drunk is he?

“You can’t walk into the badlands like that,” Scott tells him, scowling. “Come to the _Tempest_.”

Say no. He needs to say no.

“Okay.”

xXx

The _Tempest_ isn’t quite what Reyes expects. But then, he’s never been on a ship like this – just cargo ships while he transported things or people, but that was about it in the Milky Way. The ship is smaller than a lot of other Alliance ships he’s seen; it has a minimal crew. He’s not sure why he came onto this ship; he’s not sure why he’s here, because there is nowhere for him to stay. The crew quarters are nearly full, and he feels awkward at the thought of bunking with a bunch of strangers. Even if the ship is supposed to be safe, he won’t be able to sleep surrounded by strangers, even if he is a smuggler and he should be used to it by now. There’s a reason he’s never brought anyone to his ‘home’, until Scott.

But he’s just drunk enough, still, that he knows going into the badlands is a bad idea. While he doesn’t _think_ anyone will attack him, one can never be too sure of anything on Kadara, and if a fight should ensue, he is too drunk to properly defend himself if his aim fails or he doesn’t pull the trigger fast enough. So, it is only logical that he follow Scott to the _Tempest_.

Keema would be proud of him for being responsible enough to join the Pathfinder on his ship.

Once they’re aboard the _Tempest_ , and Drack leaves them alone, Scott turns to stare at Reyes for a long time. A part of Reyes is uncomfortable under the scrutiny; another part of him enjoys the attention, because it has been a long time since anyone looked at him like that. Zia was his last romantic partner, and, well – their relationship was strictly primal. They had little chemistry in anything else.

With Scott… it’s different.

Which is what makes it dangerous. Which is why this is a _terrible idea_.

Reyes has never been good at listening to that little voice in his head shouting logic at him.

“Fuck,” Scott says.

Reyes blinks, before smirking slyly. “ _Well_ ,” he says with mirth, “what a proposition.”

Scott flushes – it does nothing for his cause, because he just looks adorable like that. Honestly. It should be illegal. The human Pathfinder should not be this endearing, and Reyes is in trouble and he should _leave_ -

“It just… I just thought that you won’t be comfy with the crew,” Scott says, like he has Reyes all figured out.

Which, he kind of does, if Reyes is being completely honest, which he never is. That Scott even notices this detail is a far jump above everyone else Reyes has met or been with.

But he’s not going to be with the Pathfinder. No.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “It’s just one night.”

“No,” Scott says, scowling at him. “You’re a guest – you should be comfy. You can sleep in my room.”

Reyes has to count to three inside his head to stop the impulse to say lewd comments. Scott doesn’t mean it like that; he can’t. “You wouldn’t let me give you my room, so I’m not taking yours,” Reyes tells him with a small smile. “However – I appreciate it.”

Scott scowls. “Yeah, but I wasn’t sleeping in a room full of your friends or I might have chosen your bed.”

Reyes bites back the comment, _I have no friends_.

He has Keema. Sometimes that’s enough.

“Reyes,” Scott says, watching him carefully, tone serious. “Seriously. Are you comfortable sleeping in the crew quarters? Tell me honestly.”

Scott is asking him honestly. Unlike everyone else on Kadara, he actually thinks Reyes can tell the truth. He honestly believes there is _good_ in Reyes.

And a small, broken part of Reyes can’t get enough of that.

So he says, “No.”

Scott smiles, like it’s that simple. “Okay then. Follow me.”

Reyes should say no. He should leave.

He follows after Scott.

xXx

The Pathfinder’s quarters are large, but Reyes expects nothing less. The bed is also large – a detail he shoves to the back of his mind. Even in a drunken haze he knows this is a shitty idea, even as bad as terrible ideas go. Even for him. Usually when he messes around with someone, it’s someone like him – a criminal, a smuggler, someone with equal morals. But this…

Reyes Vidal is many things, but a ‘good man’ is not one of them.

Scott Ryder is a good man.

Reyes is not.

That’s one glaring difference between them, and no matter how their correspondence has been thus far, it can go no further. It can’t turn into anything. Even if Scott Ryder is not only attractive in body, but also in mind. Even if Reyes finds himself attracted to his personality, his open honesty. Even if a piece of his soul glues itself back together when Scott looks at him like he matters.

Scott shrugs off his jacket. Reyes swallows back the initial lewd comment. It would shatter the moment and right now, he is enjoying it, even if he should leave. Even if he should go and never come back.

Even if a lot of things.

Reyes has never been a man to shy away from danger.

Especially danger hiding under the guise of the human Pathfinder.

Scott smiles at him, dropping his jacket over the back of his computer chair. That corner of the room almost makes Reyes laugh – there are toy models of ships along the wall. The little blue orb pulsating atop the desk must be the AI; he tries not to focus on that too much. He’s not against AI, but he’d rather not look at it, either.

He’s okay with it, he decides, as long as it’s not in his head. He’s not sure how Scott handles the AI’s constant presence. He wonders what that’s like for him, but can’t bring himself to ask. That’s a personal matter, and things between them aren’t – personal.

“I’ll take the floor,” Scott says.

Reyes scowls. “No. I’m not stealing your bed.”

“Well, you’re not sleeping on the floor,” Scott retorts.

This results in a heated staring contest, both of them too tired and drunk to know when to quit. Reyes frequents many bars and enjoys alcohol, but he rarely lets himself get drunk when he’s around other people – there are too many unknowns that way. And yet today… here he is, drunk, in Scott’s room aboard the _Tempest_ , and he’s not sure how things escalated so quickly.

“ ** _Pathfinder,”_** comes a voice from across the room, causing Reyes to flinch and look around, ready to be attacked. The blue orb on the desk is glowing a little brighter, pulsating in time with the words. **_“Mr. Kosta has offered the use of his couch if either of you need somewhere to sleep, more private than the crew quarters.”_**

Scott grins. “Thanks, SAM.” He looks at Reyes. “You – stay. Sleep. There.” He points at the oversized bed. “I’ll be down by engineering if you need me.”

He staggers once on his way to the door.

Reyes is left staring after him. By the time he finds his voice, Scott has escaped.

_Fuck me!_

xXx

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep. Honestly. He sits on the bed, then feels mildly dizzy, so he lays down and stares up at the ceiling for a long time. He debates talking to SAM – the curious side of him wants to speak with the AI and learn more about the ship and the Pathfinder, but he feels that would be unwelcomed. They might take it as an attempt to gather intel for an attack, and that’s not what he’s doing. So he just stares up at the ceiling for a long time, trapped in his thoughts, and eventually his eyes close.

When he opens them again, sunlight is filtering through the _Tempest_ , docked at Kadara Port. The Kadaran sunrise is what makes this place worth it, Reyes thinks. Yeah, it’s a toxic wasteland most of the time, filled to the brim with exiles gunning for each other or trying to get ahead of each other in some way or form, but in the quieter moments, he looks out over a sunset or sunrise, and thinks, _maybe this is home. Maybe it_ could _be home._

It’s not, but maybe it could be one day. When he’s finally someone.

Maybe then he’ll be happy.

He feels awkward, lingering in Scott’s room. It’s morning now, and he feels sufficiently less inebriated, even if he is getting a migraine behind his eyes thanks to his hangover. The one downside of drinking. Other than the potential to get knifed or gunned down on one’s way home.

He debates leaving the room, but he doesn’t want to mingle with the crew. He doesn’t know them, and he’s sure a majority of them don’t like him. He’s seen their scowls. Scott’s been hurt too many times in his presence, or because he was doing jobs for him. Reyes can understand their unease. He _is_ a bad man, after all.

Scott saves him the choice to leave, as the door whooshes open and in walks the Pathfinder, throwing him a scowl as he lifts a hand and points his index finger at him. “ _You_. This is _your_ fault.”

Reyes blinks innocently, even as he scrambles to think of what he did to deserve this. “I’m innocent.”

“ _You’re_ the one who invited me for drinks. This hangover – your fault!”

He bursts out laughing, unable to stop himself. He certainly wasn’t expecting that. “I invited you for drinks but didn’t tell you to drink that much. Maybe you’re just a lightweight. I don’t have a hangover.”

 ** _“He’s lying,”_** SAM says. **_“He is in pain similar to yours.”_**

“No offense,” Reyes says, “but your AI is a fucking snitch.”

Now Scott’s laughing. “Oh, I know! He tells on me all the time.” His mouth does this little half smirk. “I’m still blaming you.”

“Yes, yes – blame the smuggler.”

“How’d you sleep?” Scott asks.

“Can’t your AI tell you?” Reyes shoots the orb a nasty glance. Snitch.

“SAM can, but I’d rather hear it from the source.”

He sighs. “I slept fine. You? Where’d you wind up sleeping, again? Some couch?”

“Hey,” Scott says defensively, “Liam’s couch is comfy.”

“Uh huh. And Liam slept…?”

“In the crew quarters,” Scott tells him. “Why?”

“No reason.” It’s not any of his business. Absolutely none – _so why do I feel relieved…_ “Was just worried you kicked the poor man out of bed to steal it.”

“Liam would sleep on that couch all the time if we let him,” Scott says, shaking his head with a drawn-out sigh. “Anyway – are you hungry?”

Reyes’ stomach growls, answering his question.

xXx

The kitchen is smaller than he expected, with a little table to sit at. He sits and Scott cooks and he’s sure something is wrong with this picture because _no one has ever cooked for him before_. They either go out to eat, steal food, or skip dinner altogether to get to something more carnal. But Scott cooks an easy meal of scrambled eggs and bacon, and they sit at the table and eat breakfast together. It’s all very domestic; a part of Reyes itches to get away, skin prickling with unease. Another, tiny part of him… rather enjoys it.

“So,” Scott says. “What exactly do you do on Kadara?”

“I’m a smuggler,” Reyes says, eating a mouthful of food. It’s delicious. Much better than those freeze-dried packets or nutrient paste. He’s in heaven.

“Yeah, but… I mean, what do you _do_? What do you smuggle?”

“Things,” Reyes says carefully. His job is very hush-hush, even to those who know him. Only Keema knows the truth.

If Scott were to find out… maybe he’d be okay with it since he doesn’t seem to care about politics, especially on Kadara, but a part of Reyes will always fear the worst. Scott will stop looking at him like _that_ – with that tiny quirk to his mouth Reyes is certain the Pathfinder doesn’t even know he’s doing, and those clear eyes and full attention and-

He just looks at Reyes like he matters. Like he’s important just like he is, as boring old smuggler, Reyes Vidal. He matters, to someone.

And if Scott learns the truth… maybe that won’t change, but maybe it will, and Reyes’ mind will always – _always_ – fear the worst.

“Tell me about pathfinding,” Reyes says, changing the subject.

Scott swallows hard, nearly choking on his food. He coughs to clear his throat, and looks at Reyes with watering eyes. “What about it?”

Reyes quirks a brow. “You don’t seem to like it.”

It’s not like Scott hides it. Reyes knows Alec Ryder was supposed to be the Pathfinder, not his son. Maybe it was thrust upon him, but since he’s the Pathfinder now, doesn’t that mean he was next in line to receive the position? Did he simply take his father’s death hard?

Reyes never knew his father. He can’t imagine that kind of family bond. He can’t imagine that kind of bond _period_ , with anyone.

Bonds – _relationships_ , familial or otherwise – are dangerous.

But Reyes has never shied away from danger.

“It’s complicated,” Scott mumbles, pushing his food around his plate with his fork. He nods to himself, probably having a private conversation with the AI in his head. “I’m getting used to it. I think.”

“You don’t seem to like it,” Reyes says again.

Scott sighs, shoulders drooping. “I don’t. I hate it. I never wanted this.”

“Weren’t you next in line, after your father?”

“No.”

Reyes blinks, surprised. “Then why…?”

“It was supposed to go to Cora,” Scott says, shrugging helplessly. “But Dad… he just… He transferred it to me instead, and now SAM’s too far into my system to just… _stop_. So I just… I’m the Pathfinder.”

Reyes frowns. “There’s no way to get the AI out?”

“Not without killing me, no,” Scott says.

“That’s… unfair.”

The Pathfinder huffs. “Life isn’t fair. Nothing is fair. But I’m getting used to it, I think.”

 ** _“Scott is doing very well,”_** SAM says from the console along the wall. Reyes doesn’t bother looking over, though he does manage to conceal his wince at the sudden voice.

Scott flushes again, glaring down at his plate. “Thanks. I’m trying.”

“All anyone can do is try,” Reyes tells him.

Scott smiles faintly, and looks up, gaze focusing on him. “My father would disagree. To him, there was only success or failure – trying never mattered. I think I like your philosophy better.”

“Of course you do,” Reyes says, smirking, like some part of his heart isn’t fracturing right now, “I have charmed you.”

“Not as charming as you think you are,” Scott reminds him with a quiet laugh.

It’s in that moment Reyes realizes: he’s in way over his head. Scott Ryder is under his skin, and hearing an honest, quiet laugh is all it takes to lift his spirits and clear his foggy mind.

He’s in trouble. Deep trouble.

But Reyes Vidal is no stranger to trouble.


	6. Blanket of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott needs to learn how to relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too sure about this chapter, honestly. Not much happens, and it's the shortest chapter yet at just over 5k. Next chapter will probably be in Reyes' POV, but I make no promises. 
> 
> This chapter is, like I said, mostly nothing. Just Scott trying to relax but he's not particularly good at it. SAM helps, and Peebee is great, too. 
> 
> Maybe romance will start soon xD Who knows. It's a slow burn. It says it's only going to have 11 chapters but I might make it more, depending on if I can get Scott to cooperate or not. We'll see how that goes. 
> 
> Thanks for the comments, as always <3

_ Chapter Six: Blanket of Silence _

 

“Again.”

His biotics flare to life and he’s left gasping as he attempts regulate all that enhanced energy, forcing it into a massive barrier. He’s sweating through his clothes, a black, form-fitting T-shirt and gray exercise pants which cling to his calves. Everything aches, even his mind: every thought sends a stab of pain through his system, but still he keeps going because-

_I wasn’t good enough._

On Kadara, during the ambush – he wasn’t good enough. He got shot, and had to be fucking _carried_ back, and fucking _Reyes_ saw him like that. He’ll never get any jobs from the guy again. He’s surprised Reyes offered to have drinks with him, and he is still in shock that he told the smuggler to come back to the ship with him, and even went so far as to give him his bed and take Liam’s couch.

_Note to self: Alcohol and I don’t mix well._

**_Mental note added to files._ **

He huffs out a choked, shocked laugh. _Thanks, SAM._

He is getting better at this whole thing, he thinks, just like he told Reyes. Some days are better than others, and some days it’s hard to find the strength to crawl out of bed, but in the end, he has a job to do and that always gets him through the day. He can’t rest, he can’t quit, until everyone has a home or until they find other Pathfinders. Until then – he’ll do his job.

 ** _This line of thought serves no purpose,_** SAM informs him almost grumpily, a slight edge to his monotone voice. **_You are needed. You will always be needed._**

He won’t, but SAM always tries to lift his spirits. He appreciates that, even if sometimes he wonders _why_. What ulterior motives could the AI have? He doesn’t ask, and if SAM picks up on those particular thoughts, he never mentions it.

But he is getting better: even he can admit that to himself. He can see the change. It takes longer for him to tire out now, and he can do more than before he started this whole Pathfinder thing. And sometimes he can go hours – days – without even thinking about how unqualified he is for this job. Sometimes it doesn’t matter that Alec Ryder made the wrong choice.

But then he sees Cora, and there’s still a touch of resentment resting deep inside of her, even if she won’t admit it. She trained so hard to become Alec’s second, and in the end she was sidestepped and the position was given to Scott. Knowing what he does of her past, he doesn’t blame her for hating him.

Sometimes, he hates himself too.

A lot of the time, actually.

And that’s the problem, he thinks.

He doesn’t like himself. He’s too awkward in social situations; he puts on a smile but that’s not how he feels. He’s always itching to get away. He’s always hiding in his room, or burying himself in his work so he doesn’t have time to _think_ about all of this.

He doesn’t like himself, and if he can’t accept and like himself, how can he possibly move forward as the Pathfinder?

He’s trying to work on that. He’s trying to spend more time with his crew, and get to know them better so he can relax around them. It works, for a few days, but then they inevitably bring up the whole Pathfinder thing and start talking about the uprising, and what happened after, and how Scott’s their only hope.

It’s a lot of pressure, and he doesn’t need a reminder of it all the time. He _knows_. He’s fucking aware of the situation, thanks very much, and he doesn’t need anyone’s help reminding him.

Cora thinks he’s not taking things seriously enough.

He’s pretty sure he can’t take it more seriously.

“Again,” he says with a quiet tremble to his voice. He swallows, clears his throat and tries again, his voice more steady this time. “Again, SAM.”

The blue glow from his biotics is comforting. He’s always tried to hone his biotics into a weapon, mostly because he hates guns, but also because he likes the discipline and training. He likes the focus required, because it gives him little time to think of anything else. Like the fact his sister’s stuck in a coma. Or how his father died. Or Cora hating him. Or Reyes seeing him carried in Drack’s arms. Or Drack carrying him. Or-

His biotics flicker and die out. He huffs, exhausted, bent over at the waist with his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. The muscles aching are more mental than physical; he hasn’t done a lot of physical activity, but the thought-process can be tiring. More than tiring. Physically draining.

He’s tired, sweaty, and achy. All he wants to do is sleep.

“Ryder.”

That’s Kallo’s voice coming through the comms. Scott winces. “Yeah?”

“Peebee is trashing her room,” the pilot informs him. “She’s locked herself in and we can hear things being thrown. We’re concerned. Perhaps you could talk to her, and get into the room with your override?”

He exhales slowly, wiping the sweat from his brow as he stands to his full height once more. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll go check on her.”

“Thank you.”

“Do I have time to change first? And shower?”

“She is throwing things, Ryder.”

 _Fuck me._ “Okay. I’m on my way.”

xXx

Scott steels himself before he uses his override to unlock the door leading into Peebee’s little area. She sleeps in the escape pod, and this outer area is where she’s been keeping her things. Usually it’s more tidy than this. Right now, there’s papers sprawled all over the floor, bits of unfinished robotic projects lying around, and Peebee is currently pacing back and forth and muttering under her breath, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation.

“Uh – Peebee?”

Peebee jumps, literally _jumps_ , and spins to face him. “Ryder!” she says, eyes wide. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“You look a little… uh…” _Oh fuck, say something nice. She’s giving you the death glare. Say something. C’mon!_ “Stressed.”

“Yeah,” she says somewhat shakily, whirling away from him to start pacing again.

“Do you want to… _ugh_ … talk about it?”

“No.”

 _Fuck me, I’m terrible at this._ “O-kay… But you really need to calm down. You’re stressing _me_ out.”

“Yeah,” Peebee says, stopping, turning to look at him. “You’re right. Yeah. Yeah. But I can’t. I just – ugh! This is so crowded, and I’m not used to people knowing where my stuff is all the time, or where I am, or-”

“You feel suffocated,” Scott says, realization hitting him. He’s not sure why he didn’t notice before; she once mentioned she wasn’t a homebody, she was always moving around. Staying in one place for so long, even aboard a ship, is driving her stir crazy.

She stares at him, green eyes wide. “Yes,” she says. “That’s it exactly.”

He nods. “What do you need, to feel better?”

“I don’t know! That’s the problem! Back in the Milky Way I used to just find a zero-g chamber or something and float away for a few hours, but here…”

 ** _“The escape pod you are utilizing can be overridden to lose its gravity,”_** SAM says from his nearby console.

Peebee’s eyes widen. “Yes! That’s it! SAM, you’re a genius!”

She hurries toward the escape pod, and climbs inside. Once she’s at the back of it she turns to face Scott, who is standing at the entrance, watching her curiously.

“You know,” Peebee says, smirking, “there’s room for two in here.”

“So there is,” Scott says, nodding as he climbs inside.

The door shuts, and Scott tries not to panic at the enclosed space. He never had a problem with this until he woke in Andromeda. Maybe a part of his body recognized the fact he was in a cryo pod for over 600 years, and now it’s just an instinctual reaction to tight, enclosed spaces.

Either way, he shoves the reaction down. Or, rather, SAM does, because he knows what Scott needs before he himself does, and if he thinks about how scary that is he’s going to lose his mind.

Peebee messes with the console, and a second later the gravity in the pod switches off. Scott floats into the air, and Peebee makes a series of happy moans and whines as she floats as well, swaying her body back into a relaxed position. She already seems happier.

As she floats under him, her eyes open and she smiles at him. “Ryder…”

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice just as quiet.

“There’s… something else that would relax me…”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Wanna fool around?” she asks with a grin. “Doesn’t matter if you have something else going. I can be discrete. No strings attached – just for fun, to relieve stress. No strings, Ryder.”

She sounds almost giddy.

Scott realizes what she’s asking and feels his face flush. He’s never been able to stop that instinctual reaction; it’s probably why he doesn’t date. Ever. That and the fact he hasn’t really had _time_ for anything like that… in a long time… centuries… and since he’s woken up he’s been busy.

The thought does cross his mind, if only briefly. Peebee is attractive in her own way, and they seem to gel well enough. He finds himself enjoying her company.

In another life, his answer would be yes.

In another life, they could get along _really_ well.

In another life…

But in this life, he’s the Pathfinder, and she’s a member of his crew. Even if this isn’t technically the Alliance anymore, and they’re another galaxy away on a mission where it doesn’t really matter, the protocol is still ingrained in his head.

_Don’t mix business with pleasure… even if you enjoy their company._

He smiles at her apologetically. “That sounds – great, Peebee, really. But I just…”

She nods. “It’s totally okay, Ryder. We don’t have to. It just sounded like fun, and you’re cute, and we get along, so…”

“I’m cute, am I?”

She laughs. “You know you are.”

“Well, I mean – it’s always nice to hear.”

She shakes her head as she continues floating. “So, what – you don’t do casual, is that it?”

He sighs. “It’s not that. I just… have a lot on my plate right now, and I can’t be distracted.”

“Oh? Are you calling me distracting?”

“You know you are,” he says, repeating her words.

She giggles. “Well, we can’t have _that_ , now can we?”

He smirks, shaking his head at her.

“Ryder, you’re gonna hit the-”

The back of his head slams into the wall.

“Ow.”

xXx

Scott hasn’t been avoiding Cora, so much as he’s taken liberties not to disturb her. Because she hates him. She has to. She admitted to being bitter about the whole Pathfinder thing, and she has every reason to dislike him. It’s not like they were friends before the jump; they barely knew each other before they arrived in Andromeda. Scott had as little to do with his father’s work as he could; it consumed the man.

So when Cora hunts him down and grabs his arm to physically pull him into a conversation with her, he’s not prepared. At all. He has no idea what’s happening. For a brief second he wonders if something happened, if they’re under attack, but all she does is lead him to a quiet corner and releases him, before giving him that silent death glare.

“What’d I do now?” he asks.

She sighs, expression softening. “You’ve been avoiding me. Avoiding all of us.”

“I have not. I’ve been interacting with everyone,” he says, because he’s been more ‘involved’ than he usually is. He eats meals with Liam occasionally, or argues over robotic theory with Peebee – who may or may not be making him a combat bot, because she’s awesome like that – and has tracked down some popcorn for Vetra. He’s been interacting with everyone. He’s been engaged. He hasn’t been avoiding anyone.

Cora scowls. “Bullshit, Ryder.”

He bristles. “I _do_ have a name, you know – I’m not my fucking father.”

“Well, that’s clear.” Cora winces immediately after the words leave her mouth, eyes wide as she stares at him. “I’m so sorry. That came out wrong. I just – this is hard on all of us, Scott. I know it’s harder on you, but all of us are still adjusting, too.”

He exhales, fighting the urge to snap at her or flee. Probably flee. Verbal arguments with Cora never end well. “I know.”

“I feel like things have been… strained between us, and I know that’s my fault,” Cora says quietly, gaze skittering away. She looks almost shy, with those half-lidded eyes and her teeth catching her lower lip briefly, but Cora is never shy. She’s headstrong and stubborn, just like Alec Ryder. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel unwelcomed, Scott. I _am_ bitter about the whole… Pathfinder thing. I trained hard for that. And now that it’s not in the cards… I just don’t know what to do with myself.”

She looks lost in that moment, and Scott caves. He reaches out and pulls her into a hug, because she needs it, and if he’s being honest with himself, he needs it too. He doesn’t enjoy a lot of casual physical contact but hugging is easy; hugs he can do, especially if someone else needs it. Cora does.

Her arms come around him slowly. For one, quiet moment, her breath is a ragged sob against his shoulder, and then she quickly composes herself, pulling away before he can process what is happening. She smiles tearfully at him.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “I needed that.”

“So did I,” he tells her. “You’re not alone, Cora. I don’t know what to do with myself either. What was Dad thinking? This should be your job. I never wanted this.”

“I know you didn’t,” Cora tells him, smiling sadly. “But Alec was right.”

Scott frowns. “How was he right?”

“Look around you, Scott. Look at what you’ve accomplished.”

“You could have, and would have, done the same.”

She shrugs. “Maybe, but we’ll never know. But if it helps, I think your father chose the right person for the job.”

“… Thanks, Cora.”

xXx

That night, Scott’s dreams are pleasant.

He dreams of warm sunsets, rock-climbing with his sister, and soft lips against his own.

Reyes is smiling, an open, genuine smile.

Scott wakes, but not in a cold sweat this time. Instead there’s a lot of heat.

He runs to his bathroom to take a cold shower.

xXx

There’s trouble brewing on the Nexus. Systems are ‘malfunctioning’ a lot, and they want Scott to use his scanner – and SAM – to locate the source. He scans a few consoles and power grids, and reports back to the man assigning him the job. The man says he’ll look into it, and Scott continues on his way toward Tann’s office only to be stopped by protestors, waiting outside the tram.

They’re angry – their loved ones were pushed to the back of the ‘wake up’ line because of Scott’s decision to make the outpost on Eos a science one. At first he tries to placate them as best he can, but then he scurries away toward the tram, promising he’ll talk to someone about this.

Their angry stares follow him.

He never wanted this. This is why he can’t be Pathfinder; he’s terrible at it.

Even if SAM says he’s improving; even if Cora says he’s doing okay. He’s not, because no matter what he does, people are angry. People are getting hurt by his decisions.

His father would be so much better at this. He should have left things alone on Habitat 7.

_He should have let me die._

**_Such thoughts are derogatory toward oneself,_** SAM tells him. **_Furthermore, I do not appreciate them, nor would any aboard the_** _Tempest **. You are doing well, Scott.**_

Scott sighs. He appreciates SAM’s words – but SAM was designed to help him.

He wonders if the AI is capable of lying.

xXx

The meeting with Tann isn’t completely unpleasant this time; the man is at least cordial, and congratulates him on his progress, even if it is an underhanded compliment wrapped in barely hidden insults. It’s clear Tann doesn’t believe he’s the right man for the job; he’d be happier with Alec Ryder, not his half-rate son.

Scott leaves the meeting and goes to Addison, who isn’t too thrilled to see him, either. Does anyone here like him? Not that he cares about being liked, but the constant animosity is getting to him.

She gives him a brief progress report about Prodromos, but other than that, keeps tight-lipped about anything and everything. Scott quickly leaves her to her work, and moves back toward the tram.

He goes to see his sister. They have forty-eight hours of shore leave, and the crew are all scattered about, meeting with family or loved ones.

So he goes to see Sara whenever he’s here.

She looks the same as always, and speaking with Dr. Carlyle reveals her condition hasn’t change. She’s stable, but still in a coma. She’ll have to wake up on her own. It’s been going on three months, and she’s still in a coma.

He sits with her, and tells her about their outpost, about Eos, and Kadara, and Reyes Vidal.

He tells her he might, in fact, have a very small crush on the smuggler. A very tiny one. Because there’s no time for anything like that, with anyone.

But he tells her, because who else is he going to tell? Who else can he talk to like this?

He wants to say it’s a relief she can’t shout at him for his horrible choices… but in reality, he’d give anything to hear her yell at him again.

To just hear her voice again.

He’s surrounded by people all the time – aboard his ship, or on the Nexus, or even planetside – but he’s never felt more alone.

xXx

He spends most of his time aboard the _Tempest_ , avoiding people wishing to interview him, or the mob of people angry with his choices, and especially Director Tann.

The ship is quiet when everyone else is gone; he can be alone with his thoughts and not worry about ‘avoiding’ someone, or literally crashing into them. (Seriously, he and Gil need to work out a walk schedule or something, so they stop that nonsense. He can only do it and apologize so many times before people start thinking he means to run into Gil like that.)

He walks the lonely halls, and for some reason his thoughts travel back to Kadara. The planet isn’t so bad now that the toxicity levels have dropped. Reyes informed him, the last time they spoke via vid-call – about two weeks ago – that he is close to finding out who put the hit out on Scott. Scott told him it was the Charlatan, but Reyes is adamant it doesn’t seem like the Charlatan’s handy work, and he’d know better than Scott, since he lives there and everything. So Scott is inclined to believe him.

His thoughts travel to the smuggler, and linger for a while. He can admit it: he likes Reyes. Not only is he physically attractive, and has that accent, but there’s something about him that draws Scott toward him. He’s helpful, willing to trust and house Scott when he has let no one else there before. He seems to read Scott easily; Scott’s built his life on fake smiles and jokes. Until recently, no one saw through them except SAM, and now Reyes.

A part of him wants to see the smuggler again.

A part of him wants more.

The rest of him – the more logical side – realizes it’s a terrible idea, because not only do they lead completely different lives, but Scott has a job to do right now, and that won’t be ending any time soon. Even if he _does_ find a home for everyone, that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop being Pathfinder. SAM is too far into his system for that. It’s too late for a normal life.

An hour after waking, his fate was chosen for him.

If he’s being honest, the path was set the moment he opened his eyes.

So he shoves Reyes, and all thoughts of something _more_ with anyone, out of his mind.

_Don’t mix business with pleasure… even if you enjoy their company._

Until he stops being Pathfinder, everything is business.

And he’ll never stop, until he’s dead.

xXx

To his surprise, it’s Peebee who finds him late that night, alone in the cargo hold, practicing his biotics.

At first he doesn’t notice her; she sneaks up on him, all quiet steps and agility. Then she’s tapping him on the shoulder, and he stiffens, a gasp choking him. A heart attack. He’s going to have a fucking heart attack.

 ** _I would never allow that,_** SAM assures him.

_Why didn’t you warn me, you asshole._

**_She is not a threat._ **

Scott exhales slowly, turning to face the asari. “Hey, Peebee. What’s up?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says, looking him up and down, smirking. “I thought I put in a lot of late nights, but you take the cake, Ryder. Do you ever sleep?”

“I sleep,” he says somewhat defensively.

Peebee scoffs. “Sure you do, and I’m best friends with Lexi.”

Scott sighs, scrubbing a hand over his sweaty face. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Do you need something?”

She quirks a brow at him. “You know not everyone comes to you because they need something, right?”

He shrugs.

“Right – Not everyone needs something. Sometimes we just want to talk. And sometimes, we’re just wandering around and happen upon exhausted Pathfinders.”

Scott hesitates, uncertain if he’s hearing her right. “So you can’t sleep,” he says, watching her. “What’s on your mind? Don’t you have an apartment here?”

“I moved the last of my things out of there,” she tells him with a shrug. “I don’t live here anymore. Not that I ever really _did_ , but… I mean, I guess what I’m saying is I’m yours now. U-Uh, I mean, not like that. I’m part of your crew now. Officially. My home is the _Tempest_ until further notices.”

She’s cute when she rambles.

In another life…

He sighs. “I understand, you don’t have to explain it to me,” he tells her, smiling. “So did you get everything moved okay? I could have helped you.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help,” she says, and then frowns. “That… came out harsher than I intended, I’m sorry. I just mean, not everyone needs your help. I didn’t want to bother anyone, and I can take care of myself.”

Scott nods. “Alright. What brings you to the cargo hold at this hour?”

“I was just… wandering around. The ship is so quiet without anyone here. I thought I was alone.”

“It’s relaxing, isn’t it?” Scott says, looking around the cargo hold. Tomorrow it will be mostly filled with boxes and crates and supplies, but for today, it’s relatively empty and spacious. Their voices almost echo. Almost.

“What are you doing here?” Peebee asks, and he can feel her eyes on him again.

He shrugs. “I come here to train.”

“Yeah – but it’s your off day.”

“I don’t have off days.”

Now she’s frowning. “Everyone needs to relax now and then.”

“I’m the Pathfinder; I don’t have time to-”

“Bullshit,” she says, lifting a delicate brow. “You don’t have to play boss all the time. Come with me.”

She grabs his wrist, and he has no choice but to follow.

He could fight her, but he won’t.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

He lets her drag him off the _Tempest_ , and away from the docking area. There’s few people out at this hour, but those that are out, they easily sidestep and avoid. Scott can only imagine what they look like right now: Peebee tightly holding his wrist and dragging him along like a stray dog she found on the street, hurrying through the walkways and hallways.

When they stop, they’re inside a bar of some sort. There’s loud, club music playing, and a few people are drunkenly dancing. There’s an asari dancer across the room, in the low light, smiling at people as she dances for them. Scott glances at Peebee.

“What’s this?”

“You need to relax,” Peebee says, smirking at him. “I’m getting you drunk.”

“Uh… thanks, but-”

“No, no,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re not getting out of this. This is your _off_ day, Ryder. Have some fun.”

He doesn’t know how to have fun. His idea of fun was always exploring, or researching, or-

She has his wrist again, and is dragging him toward the bar counter. And now there’s a drunk in his hand, and she’s watching him expectantly.

He sighs. “Fine, but I’m not getting drunk.”

He drinks the liquid. It burns all the way down, and leaves him gasping as he wasn’t expecting that. His eyes water.

“W-What was that?”

“Oh, nothing,” Peebee says innocently.

“Like hell it was noth-”

His vision swims. A warmth floods through him, calm and relaxing, and all those tense muscles relax. He feels good.

“Whaaat….”

She giggles. “I see it’s already kicking in. That means you needed it more than I thought.” She looks back at the bartender. “Another for my friend here.”

“I really shouldn’t,” Scott says, as the drink is placed in front of him.

“You really should,” Peebee tells him.

He does.

xXx

“This is great,” Scott says, grinning sleepily as they sit at a table sometime later. He’s not sure how long they’ve been here, but the club is still in full swing, and he’s nice and comfortable in his own skin, for the time being.

If only it could be like this all the time.

“It’s nice to see you relaxing,” Peebee says. “You’re so tense all the time. Lighten up.”

“I’m trying.”

“Relax.”

“I’m trying.”

She shakes her head. “You shouldn’t have to _try_ to relax, just relax.”

It’s not that simple, but he nods to appease her.

“So, tell me about tall, dark, and handsome.”

He nearly chokes on his drink, coughing as the liquid burns his throat. “W-What?”

Peebee smirks at him from across the table, leaning forward with her elbows flat on the surface, her hands holding her chin up. “You know who I mean.”

“I really don’t.”

“Your smuggler friend,” Peebee says. “Reyes. The one who housed you for a night, and took you out drinking, and-”

He coughs again. “Uh – w-what do you want to know?”

“Are you going to make a move?”

“M-Make a… what?”

Is she seriously asking…?

It’s not that obvious, is it? He thought he was discrete.

“You know what I mean,” Peebee says. “I saw you watching him, and flirting with him, and I saw him flirting back. So?”

He swallows thickly. “It’s nothing.”

“Seems like a lot for ‘nothing’.”

“I don’t have time for anything.”

“Uh huh. Because you’re the Pathfinder. But there doesn’t have to be any strings, you know.” She grins. “You can just let off some steam.”

“I can’t. I’m not… I don’t really do that,” he tells her, looking away. Casual sex has never really been his thing. He’s done it before, of course, because in the Alliance you did what you could on shore leave, but he’s never been quite happy with the whole ‘no strings’ thing. It helps in the moment, but then later, he starts either missing them or wanting more, and it was only a one-time thing. So he just prefers to have it mean something right from the beginning, because having one partner he really knows is better than having many that he doesn’t.

“Shame,” she says, sitting back in her chair. “It’s a nice way to relax, and you really need to relax.”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s not what SAM says.”

“SAM, what the fuck? You tattling on me again?” he asks, scowling at no one in particular.

 ** _I’m only trying to help. I am programmed to help you. I cannot help you if you are overly stressed,_** SAM says, sounding totally unrepentant.

“Wow, you really are a fucking snitch, SAM,” Scott says, shaking his head. The AI in his head is tattling on him. If Sara was here, she’d get quite the laugh out of that, and tease him relentlessly about it. But she’s not here.

Peebee is, and she’s about to die laughing. Her face is more purple than blue right now, as she tries to catch her breath. “Oh, that’s great!”

He glowers at her. “Why does SAM feel so comfortable snitching to you, hmm? You talk about me in your spare time? Are you conniving with my AI?”

She’s laughing again, and she really should stop before she falls over or passes out from lack of oxygen.

 ** _You seem to get along well with her,_** SAM says. **_And she asked about your stress levels. I simply told her the truth._**

_Fucking snitch._

**_I am not sorry._ **

_… SAM. This is where you apologize and I forgive you. I can’t forgive you if you don’t apologize._

**_I am not sorry._ **

_… I never took you for the type to like being in the doghouse, but, I mean – fucking snitch._

“Are you done talking with the voices in your head?”

Scott blinks, refocusing on Peebee, who is watching him with a smirk. At least she’s stopped laughing. “What?”

“How are you?” she asks, more serious this time.

“I’m… okay,” he tells her, frowning.

“SAM?”

“Hey – going behind my back to the AI who lives in my head… that’s cheating,” Scott tells her, scowling.

“I’m a cheater – didn’t you know?”

“Not until just now. The things I learn about you…” he says, shaking his head with a smirk.

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

He grins. “Enlighten me. Wait – let’s ask SAM, since you’ve made that fair game now. SAM. Give me all the information you have on Peebee, including her actual name.”

“What – no! SAM, you keep your mouth shut!”

xXx

Scott’s been with his crew for just under four months. He’s been Pathfinder for four months. He’s starting to get to know them better, and sometimes, he even feels like they might be friends. He enjoys hanging out with Peebee, exercising with Liam and Jaal, and discussing Pathfinder stuff with Cora. Drack is a good drinking buddy, save for the fact he never gets drunk and just laughs at Scott. Vetra enjoys her popcorn and is arguing with Suvi about which snack to bring to their movie night, which should hopefully be happening soon.

It’s a slow process, but Scott’s becoming more comfortable with everyone.

They’re on their way back to Kadara, as Reyes has a strong lead on who might be impersonating the Charlatan. Scott said he wanted to be in on it, and so the smuggler kept him informed.

It’ll be nice to see Reyes again.

He enjoys their back-and-forth, even if nothing can come from it. Even if he’ll always be alone because of this Pathfinder thing.

At least he’ll always have SAM.

A few months ago, that bothered him.

Now – it just feels normal.

He’ll take all the normal he can get.  


	7. Even on a Cloudy Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyes has plans, and the Pathfinder doesn't fit into them. This is a terrible idea, but Reyes Vidal is full of terrible ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title isn't from the song 'Back Against the Wall'. Why? Because this story is being a disobedient little shit and not sticking with my chapters and their titles, and I only have so many names from that one song. So. This chapter's title comes from "Shake Me Down", by Cage the Elephant. Same band. All the titles will be from the same band, but might be different songs, because this story is disobedient and doesn't want to fit nicely into 11 chapters. It might still fit, but none of the titles wound up fitting this chapter like I wanted it to, because again, disobedient little shit. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the comments!! They keep me motivated. My work week starts tonight so updates will be slower in coming. 
> 
> Note: I never actually romanced Reyes in the game. I don't like romancing non-squad members because I like taking them with me everywhere. So that means I can't have a gay romance in the game unless I play as a girl. So, I'm romancing Cora in the game, lol, and casual sex with Peebee. Because Peebee is awesome. So, I haven't actually experienced the Reyes romance save for a few clips here and there. Sorry if he's out of character at all.

_ Chapter Seven: Even on a Cloudy Day_

 

To say that Reyes is angry that there’s a fake Charlatan, someone out there pretending to be him and giving false orders, is an understatement. He’s not angry; he’s completely _furious_. How dare they! How dare they take his name and do this with it. He’s been lenient with his representatives, but clearly they need a tighter leash.

He has a strong lead on where the false orders came from; not a person, but a location. Scott told him to tell him if he found anything, and so he told him, but he doesn’t want Scott with him when he gets his hands on this false Charlatan. He doesn’t plan to be kind or show mercy.

Scott is – not what Reyes expected, honestly. Most would want an active part in hunting down their would-be killer, he’s sure, but Scott doesn’t _need_ to be part of it; he just _wants_ to be. If Reyes went after the pretender without him, Scott might be upset he didn’t wait for him, but he wouldn’t be angry. He doesn’t _need_ to track this person down; he just wants it. He wants revenge? Reyes doesn’t think Scott actually wants to kill the person, but he could be wrong. He’s only known the man for about three months, after all.

They don’t know each other, realistically.

They’ve shared drinks, and jokes, and have had conversations – but they don’t really _know_ each other. But to be fair, Reyes doesn’t really know _anyone_. He thinks if he did get to know someone, though – it’d be the Pathfinder.

But that is a dangerous line of thinking.

He shoves it away, and spends his time down in Tartarus for the most part, waiting for Scott to arrive so they can investigate together. If he’s being honest with himself, it will be nice to see the Pathfinder after so long. A thrill runs up his spine. Crushes are the worst.

They’re also fickle, and fleeting, and soon it will pass. Usually they pass after he’s had sex with the person of interest, but that won’t be happening with Scott. It’ll have to pass on its own. And it will, just like they always do.

When Scott messages him that he’s in orbit, and about to land on Kadara Port, Reyes finally rouses himself from Tartarus’ back room, and makes his way toward the elevator out of the slums. By the time he arrives at Kadara Port, the _Tempest_ has docked and the doors are opening. Out steps the Pathfinder, alone as always. He smiles when he sees Reyes. Reyes smiles back, and watches as Scott approaches him.

“Hey,” Scott says. “How are things?”

“The same as always,” Reyes replies.

Scott nods. “How are you? You look tired.”

Reyes shrugs. “I’m fine.” In truth, he hasn’t been sleeping well – he keeps having these naughty dreams involving a certain off-limits Pathfinder, because Reyes has always liked what he can’t have. So he’s been boycotting sleep, because really – he should have more self-control than a teenage boy.

“What’d you find out?” the Pathfinder asks.

“I got a location where the fake Charlatan might be hiding.”

“And we’re _sure_ it’s not the Charlatan?” Scott asks, frowning.

Reyes nods. “Yes. It’s just not their style. Someone is pretending to be them.”

“Well – I mean, if you say so. You’d know more than me,” Scott says, shrugging.

His easy acceptance of the answer nearly catches Reyes off guard, but he manages another quick smile. “Well, I _do_ live here.”

“Yeah – how is that?” Scott asks, frowning somewhat. “I mean, I know you didn’t like how the Initiative handled the whole uprising, but… living here can’t be easy. You weren’t technically part of the uprising. If you wanted, couldn’t you go back, and get out of here?”

 _It’s not that simple,_ Reyes thinks, sighing. “The Initiative is not nearly so forgiving as you think,” he says. “And I don’t want to go back.”

“Why not?”

When anyone else asks about his past, or questions his decisions, he gets immediately annoyed. He throws on a fake smile and redirects the conversation easily. But now, with Scott, he finds he doesn’t mind, because the Pathfinder is simply curious. He isn’t judging Reyes in any way. He just simply wants to know.

It’s been a long time since anyone genuinely wanted to know about him, or his decisions.

It’s been a long time since Reyes gave a straight answer, too.

He doesn’t smile. “That’s not who I am. I don’t know why I joined in the first place; I guess a new galaxy seemed interesting, and… I wanted to be someone. I was no one, in the Milky Way. I thought: why not? So I joined. And… it was not what I expected. It’s not who I am.”

“And… who are you?”

His smile is more wolfish than anything, all teeth and no mirth. “I’m a criminal, of course.”

Scott stares at him for a moment, a thoughtful frown tugging his lips downward, before he shakes his head. “No.”

“…No?”

“That’s not who you are,” Scott says.

“I’m a criminal,” he says again, confused.

“Yeah, but that’s not who you are. That’s just what you do. Who you are doesn’t require labels like that. I don’t think.” The Pathfinder’s cheeks turn red as he quickly looks away. “I mean – ignore me. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Reyes stares at him for a moment, as his mind struggles to comprehend the words he’s just heard. He’s a criminal, and no one has ever argued with him on that point. He’s gone under that label most – if not all – of his life.

He didn’t know he wanted to hear otherwise – _needed_ to hear otherwise – until the pain in his chest can’t be classified as _bad_ , but rather appreciated.

“Would you like to have a drink with me?” he asks, mouth moving on its own.

Scott smiles. “Last time I drank with you, I had a killer hangover and slept on an old, tattered couch.”

“You said the couch was comfortable,” Reyes says. “And I’ll buy.”

“Well… if you’re buying…”

xXx

They don’t go drinking so much as grab dinner at the bar. There’s drinks involved, but it’s not their sole activity. Umi makes a mean chili, spicy and everything. They sit down to eat at a table, and of course order some drinks, and then they eat, and talk.

It’s pleasant, and domestic, and a part of Reyes is itching to get away.

Another part of him is enjoying the company too much to move from this spot.

_Reyes Vidal, you are a fool._

He is. He is a fool. This is trouble, and no good can come from this, but he can’t stop.

Scott swirls his drink around in the glass, and smirks at Reyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was a date.” He takes a sip of his drink.

“Maybe you don’t know better.” The words are out before Reyes can stop them.

Scott nearly chokes on his drink. For a moment, he coughs and tries to regain his breath, eyes watering. “Run that by me again?”

 _Oh, boy. Can’t back out now. Say it, Vidal._ “Maybe you don’t know better,” he repeats, watching Scott closely.

Scott stares back, blue-grey eyes wide. “Are you… serious? Or just being naturally flirty? I can never tell with you.”

Reyes smirks. “I _am_ naturally flirty – but, no. I am serious.”

“You…” Scott’s nose wrinkles. “You like me?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Well, I mean… _why_?”

“The reasons are my own,” Reyes tells him. “From your flirting, I can only assume you like me as well. I’m not usually wrong about these things. Am I wrong?”

If Scott says yes, Reyes will walk away. He needs to walk away. He’s not sure why he’s doing this; it just feels right, and his mouth apparently has a mind of its own. He’s not called _Shena_ for nothing, after all.

“You’re not wrong,” Scott finally says, after quiet deliberation, as he looks away. “But I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t… like you,” Scott murmurs. “I have… a lot on my mind. So much is riding on me. I can’t… be distracted.”

“I distract you?”

Scott huffs, throwing him a quick glare. “You _know_ you do.”

The Pathfinder feels the same – he likes him as well. A part of Reyes’ heart feels lighter. Another registers what Scott’s saying, and he should feel relieved, but he doesn’t.

Scott is admitting to liking him, but is also saying this can go no further. Which is how it should be. It can’t go further than this. Than friends drinking together. It can’t. It’s too dangerous.

He has plans in motion, and attachments complicate things. A friend – maybe that will work out fine, but a lover? A new lover? The Pathfinder? No. That won’t end well at all.

He should leave now.

“I understand,” he tells Scott, nodding at him. “An entanglement would get in the way of… many things.”

Scott nods slowly. “If it helps… I do enjoy your company.” He smiles. “There’s no one else I’d rather be stranded on Kadara with.”

Reyes smiles back. “I enjoy your company as well. Maybe one day, when we are not so busy.”

“Maybe,” Scott agrees quietly. He clears his throat, looking away. “So – what about this fake Charlatan?”

“I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, when we go there,” Reyes tells him, looking around. Here is not the best place to discuss such matters; one never knows who could possibly be listening. Spies aren’t necessarily Sloane’s game, but better safe than sorry.

“Why not today?” Scott asks, frowning.

“It’s getting late; we would not reach the location before nightfall, and Kadaran nights can be quite dangerous.”

Scott nods. “Yeah. Okay. That’s smart.”

“We’ll meet bright and early tomorrow morning.”

xXx

“The fake Charlatan is hiding in a _cave_?” Scott asks, staring into the mouth of the cave.

“My people call this the death caves,” the purple angara, Jaal, says.

“Death caves,” Scott says, scowling at Reyes. “ _Death caves._ That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

Reyes shrugs. “I don’t pick their locations, I just led you here.”

Scott huffs, looking back at the cave entrance. He rolls his shoulders, exhaling slowly. “Alright. Let’s go, then.”

They enter the caves; it’s dark, and smells toxic and strange thanks to the acid pools. How anyone could hide here… he must commend them for their tenacity. He’s had to live in his fair share of shit holes, but never a toxic cave which smells like sulfur.

It’s an intricate cave system, with many tunnels and dead ends. They wind up backtracking a lot, even with Reyes’ directions. Or maybe _because_ of his directions. Honestly, he’s terrible with maps. And the map he’s using was created by someone hiding out in the caves, so it’s probably not the best source of information.

They finally find a door at the end of a tunnel; they’ve past generators as well. They’re oddly out of place and hard to get to. Scott and Reyes share a brief look before Scott moves to open the door. As soon as the door is open, a salarian is trying to shoot them.

“Whoa! Hold your fire!” someone else says. “The Charlatan doesn’t want the Pathfinder dead!”

 _At least_ someone _knows the rules,_ Reyes thinks sourly.

“Well,” Scott drawls, glancing over his shoulder at Reyes, “this is new.”

“I told you it wasn’t the Charlatan’s work,” Reyes says, smirking at him.

xXx

The false Charlatan is a woman named Dorado.

She’s one of his representatives; she claims to be the Charlatan to get what she wants done now. She’s gotten many killed by her false orders, and set a hit out on the human Pathfinder, because he’s ‘bad for business’.

Reyes is so _angry_.

He has his pistol out and to her head even as she sinks to her knees, begging for mercy. He’s an inch away from firing the life-ending bullet when a hand touches his arm. He shakes the hold off even as he glares at the person next to him, scrambling when he realizes it’s none other than the would-be victim, Scott Ryder.

Scott puts his hand on Reyes’ extended arm, gently pushing down until he’s no longer holding his pistol to Dorado’s head. “It’s not worth it,” he says quietly. “Lock her up, but don’t kill her. She’s begging for mercy. You’re not like that.”

 _I_ am _like that,_ he wants to shout, but he bites his tongue because Scott sees something _better_ in him, and he _wants_ to be better. He wants to be the man Scott seems to think he is. But that’s not him, and it never will be, and maybe one day they’ll both come to terms with that.

Reyes wants to kill her. Maybe he can later, but right now – right now, he puts his gun away, and pulls away from her with a sneer.

She’s taken away from other members of the Collective. Reyes promises himself to have a discrete chat with her later, away from prying eyes and Pathfinders too good for their own… well, _good_.

“I don’t understand why you’re so mad,” Scott says on the way back out of the cave. “I mean, she put a hit on _me_ , not you.”

“I’m just angry,” Reyes says. He can’t tell Scott why. He can’t tell him he’s angry because _he’s_ the Charlatan, and someone giving false orders under his name is just _wrong_. He can’t tell him he’s angry because Dorado put a hit out on _Scott_ , and for one brief moment, when Scott was limp in Drack’s arms, Reyes thought he was _dead_. He can’t tell him how _angry_ that makes him, because he doesn’t even understand it himself.

_He is nothing to me. An acquaintance. Maybe… a friend. Maybe. But nothing more._

So he shouldn’t be this angry, but he _is_.

And there’s no way he can explain any of this to Scott.

“Having someone pretending to be the Charlatan, and doling out kill orders, is bad for business,” he tells the Pathfinder. What he says isn’t untrue; it’s just not the whole truth. But lies of omission are still lies… but they never hurt anyone. “It could throw the entirety of Kadara Port off balance. It might be a shitty home, but it’s home, and everyone needs it to stay stable.”

“Well, we caught her,” Scott says, and that hand is back on Reyes’ shoulder. “Thanks to you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you all the credit,” Reyes says.

“I don’t want the credit. Keep my name out of it if you have to. All the better.”

“Anonymity doesn’t suit you,” the smuggler tells him.

Scott shrugs. “Neither does fame.”

“Have you actually _tried_ fame?”

“No, and I don’t plan on it anytime soon.”

“Too late for that,” Reyes says. “You’re the human Pathfinder: everyone already knows you.”

“Story of my life.”

xXx

Very few in the Collective know where their prisoners go, and Reyes is at the top of that list because this is _his_ organization, even if no one knows it. He knows exactly where Dorado has been taken, and he knows what the security is like, and when she is alone.

Getting to her isn’t exactly hard.

He lets her stew for a few days, though, mostly to wait for the Pathfinder to leave. Scott doesn’t need to be on the planet when he takes care of her.

Scott said it’s not worth it to kill her, but he’s wrong. It is worth it. She was pretending to be him, led others to their deaths time and time again, and wanted the Pathfinder did. She had an elevator sabotaged, and had two ambushes ready for him. The second one nearly succeeded, and where would they be then? The Nexus would rain down on everyone if they killed their only Pathfinder.

Not to mention – Reyes _wanted_ Scott to succeed. He wanted him to find everyone a home, and he couldn’t do that if he was dead.

He might not be with the Initiative anymore, but even he knows how important a Pathfinder is to anyone’s success out here. Just because they’re surviving here on Kadara doesn’t mean it will be like this forever; everything about this planet is dangerous. Not to mention the kett are an issue, even if Sloane thinks – and says – she eradicated them all from Kadara.

“So, how’s your Pathfinder friend?” Keema asks when he sees her later that night, in Kralla’s Song. He usually picks Tartarus, but Keema is working for Sloane as a sort of inside woman, and so she’s typically located on Kadara Port, which means Kralla’s Song instead of the slum bar. He feels a great deal safer down in the shadows, where he has his own private back room, but Kralla’s Song has its perks.

For instance, Umi the bartender is a spitfire, and he enjoys ruffling her feathers.

Also – Keema frequents here sometimes.

She’s his only friend, and the only one who knows he’s the Charlatan.

“He’s fine,” Reyes replies. They’re in a quiet corner of the bar, away from prying eyes. The music is loud and no one is near them, so it’s unlikely they’ll be overheard as long as they don’t raise their voices above the music. Plus, from this location, there is an excellent view of the rest of the bar. A good vantage point is always important, no matter where one is.

“Have you told him?”

“Told him what?” Reyes asks, bringing his cup to his lips.

Keema huffs. “You know exactly what I mean,” she says in that slight accent of hers.

This is why he and Keema work – she never dances around a topic. She’s very blunt, and he’s very sly, and together they just work.

“I told him about the false Charlatan,” Reyes says, swishing his drink around in his cup, watching the dark liquid start to froth.

“But not the real one,” Keema drawls.

Reyes sends her a sharp look. “Of course not.”

She sighs. “You need to tell him.”

“He’ll be leaving soon; he doesn’t need to know.”

Scott Ryder certainly doesn’t need to know Reyes Vidal is the Charlatan. Nothing good can come from that. Besides, this way, Scott gets to know him as Reyes Vidal, smuggler extraordinaire, instead of Reyes Vidal: Charlatan. For some reason… this is important to him. A part of him wants Scott to know him  for _him_ , not because he’s the secret leader of the Collective.

“Reyes, as a friend, I’m going to tell you something you need to hear.”

“And what’s that?”

Her eyes narrow at him. “You like him, so _tell him_. If you don’t, things can only end in disaster when he inevitably finds out. The longer you continue like this, the worse the blow will be.”

A part of him knows she’s right.

The other part will never admit he’s wrong.

He smiles. “He’s nothing to me. Just a passing… something. He’ll be gone in a day or so, and since he’s already fixed the planet there’s no real reason for him to come back. I’ll take care of the murder case on my own.” He finishes his drink with a long guzzle.

She sighs, shaking her head. “Okay, but don’t be surprised when this all blows up in your face.”

His life has been a series of explosions to the face.

He won’t be surprised.

xXx

The _Tempest_ has left Kadara. Scott’s gone, and Reyes makes his way toward Dorado’s location. He knows all the secret back ways through everything, because this is _his_ place, and he knows when Dorado will be alone.

Getting to her isn’t hard.

She looks up when she hears footsteps, and frowns when she sees him. “You? What’s a smuggler doing here? You want to smuggle me out?”

He snorts. “No, that is not on my list.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You’ve been impersonating me,” he says, dropping his voice low, a dangerous lilt to it as he stares her in the eyes.

“Impersonating…?” Realization dawns in her eyes, and they widen dramatically. “You’re _him_. The Charlatan.”

“You’ve been pretending to be me,” he says, shaking his head. “You’ve led people to their deaths. But more importantly, you put a hit out on my friend the Pathfinder. Do you have any idea what would happen if you succeeded?”

“The Nexus would be off Kadara,” she says, swallowing thickly. She knows what’s about to happen, but she’s not pleading. Brave girl, he supposes. Too late for that, but he can acknowledge it.

“If you killed the Pathfinder, the Nexus would rain down upon us,” he tells her, eyes narrowing as he glares. “They would ruin us if we killed the Pathfinder. Did you ever think about _that_?”

“He’s a nobody,” she says defensively. “He wasn’t even supposed to _be_ Pathfinder! No one would miss him.”

Reyes is against the bars before he knows he’s moving, his hands curling around the bars as he growls under his breath. She flinches, shocked and fearful. “I would miss him,” he snaps, and then pauses as the realization dawns on him.

He would miss him.

He is truly and utterly _fucked_.

Her eyes widen, but he doesn’t give her a chance to say more.

His pistol’s silencer is the best of the best: it makes only a muted sound as the bullet leaves the chamber, and Dorado drops dead on the ground, a hole in her head.

Reyes turns and leaves.

xXx

They don’t really know each other.

_But he wants to know him._

They lead completely different lives.

_But they could make it work._

Neither of them have time for anything.

_Stolen moments are the best._

It’s just a crush.

_But you miss him._

Reyes sighs heavily, dragging a hand across his face. It’s been two weeks since the Pathfinder left, two weeks since he took care of Dorado, and he can’t get the man out of his mind. It’s just a stupid crush and he isn’t a teenage boy: this shouldn’t affect him like this. He should have more self-control.

He doesn’t.

Reyes always takes what he wants. Except this time. This time, he denies himself what he wants because it would be too much. He has a crush, but deep down he knows it’s more than that. If something did happen with Scott, he wouldn’t be able to just walk away like he always does with everyone else. He has a string of ex-lovers, short flings that went nowhere, that he wanted to go nowhere, and he ditched them as soon as he could.

But he doesn’t feel that way with Scott. He’s not sure why.

_Maybe because when he looks at me, he doesn’t just see another criminal._

Scott’s words linger in his mind: _“That’s not who you are, that’s just what you do.”_

No one has ever said that before. No one has ever looked past the fact he’s a criminal, a bad guy, a smuggler and thief. Those are the roles that define him, and not a single person throughout his entire life has ever said otherwise.

Except Scott.

And that, at its core, is why he knows this is more.

And why it can never happen.

xXx

The Pathfinder is making progress; he has another outpost on Voeld, according to the grapevine. That’s two now – on Eos and Voeld. The angara are getting happier with him, if their words are anything to go by here. Keema is happy with him. Reyes is proud of him.

Not that he’d ever say it, of course.

He’s making progress, and the whole galaxy hears about it and waits for news with bated breath.

Reyes waits as well, because he can’t help himself. He wants to know how Scott is doing. If he’s okay. He listens to reports of the Pathfinder’s health rather than his success, of which there are few updates. No one cares how the Pathfinder is faring, only that he’s making progress.

Life on Kadara is going much the same; the toxicity levels have drastically decreased thanks to Scott’s efforts, but that doesn’t mean the planet is safe by any means. It will always be a dangerous place thanks to its inhabitants, both wildlife and otherwise.

Reyes spends most of his time either tracking leads on the murder cases, or secluded in the back room of Tartarus. Keema keeps telling him to tell Scott everything, but Scott has no reason to return to Kadara for the time being. He’s busy making history, and Reyes has his own plans, and they have their own lives to lead right now.

He’s close to taking Kadara Port; he has a plan he’s putting into motion, and it should get rid of Sloane for him. He just needs to find a sniper he can trust to keep his secret. He’d hate to have to kill the person immediately following his plan. Not that he wouldn’t do it, it’s just he’d prefer he didn’t have to. Keema is working on finding him someone she trusts, that is reliable, and that will have to be enough.

But if they get too lippy about it, or expect favors for keeping the secret… well, Reyes won’t be happy about that, and he’ll have to take care of the problem.

That’s the thing about being the Charlatan: there’s always problems which need taken care of.

He prefers not think about it, though: nothing will be happening for some time still. First he needs to get Sloane into a state where she will accept his terms about the duel, then he needs to find a reliable sniper, then a suitable location, and he needs to plan for any outcome. There is a chance this will backfire, after all. Reyes is not a man who doesn’t have back-up plans. If this doesn’t work, and Sloane then knows who he is, he’ll have no choice but to adopt Plan B: a hostile takeover, instead of one-on-one. An all out war he doesn’t want, but at that point it will be inevitable as Sloane is the kind of woman who holds grudges.

He pushes the thoughts away; he has some time before he has to make any concrete decisions. For now, he’ll live in obscurity.

xXx

Roughly two weeks later, the Pathfinder returns to Kadara.

Reyes hears about it through the grapevine; Scott’s been here for two days, and in that time has not spoken to Reyes or come looking for him. There’s a chance he’s just too busy to find the time to slip away, or message him, but Reyes prefers to think Scott’s just tired of him, and he doesn’t have to worry about his crush anymore.

Crush. Such a silly word, used for teenage boys and girls who can’t decide what they want. What they feel is usually always lust – they like the look of someone, and call it a crush, when really they know next to nothing about the person.

That’s what Reyes has: a stupid crush. He likes the look of Scott, and while he knows a little about him, it’s not enough for anything more substantial. That’s okay: substantial means problems he doesn’t need or want right now.

Maybe one day, as he told Scott. One day, when they aren’t leading such vastly different lives, and have the time to look at what’s between them. Because Scott feels it too.

That’s something Reyes never understood about crushes: that they can work both ways. He might be enjoying the look of Scott, but Scott’s looking right back, and that, he thinks, only makes it worse.

They’re both stupid teenagers with crushes.

Hell, Scott is practically _still_ a teenager. He’s only in his early twenties, still basically a kid, even if he’s only about five years younger than Reyes. The age difference usually never bothers him, but with Scott…

He runs a hand through his slicked back hair and takes a long guzzle of his drink, sitting alone, as always, in Tartarus’ back room. It’s where he spends the majority of his time, and likes to think in the dark solitude. The music drowns out any conversation he might have, either with someone in person or via vid-call. It’s the perfect little spot.

The door to the room opens, then, and he turns his head to toss the person a glare, because he very specifically told no one to disturb him. He falters when he realizes it’s Scott, entering the room. The door shuts behind him and the Pathfinder smiles at him.

“Hey, you,” Scott says.

“Hello yourself,” Reyes replies, smirking. “What brings you to my dark corner of the slums?”

Scott shrugs, in full combat gear. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“And you’re still in one piece, I see. A feat indeed.”

“Hey – I don’t _always_ get hurt. That was a one time thing.”

“Two,” Reyes reminds him, remembering the elevator incident.

“A two-time thing,” Scott corrects.

Reyes pushes to his feet. “Well, what are you doing down here today?”

“I came to ask you about the murder case, actually. Just finished up something in the badlands, and thought I might find you here.”

“I’ll take care of the murder case,” Reyes tells him.

The Pathfinder scowls. “You asked for my help for a reason. Are you backing out now?”

Reyes isn’t a coward; he doesn’t back out of anything.

He smiles. “I’ll meet you there.”

xXx

Reyes arrives before Scott and his crew, but that’s only because he knows the area better. He lives here, after all; they’re just visitors. The compound his hidden in a rock formation and partially underground, so it’s easy to miss and hard to find. Reyes has eyes and ears everywhere, though, and knows a back way in which will most likely be unguarded.

He sneaks inside, and looks around. No one is in this particular area right now, and so he starts looking at the crates and boxes. He pulls the explosive device out of his pocket and quietly attaches it to a crate in the center of the room. He’s fairly certain this is where the fight will happen; he has to know these things to survive, after all.

He quietly sneaks back out as he hears footsteps.

He makes his way back around the building and realizes Scott has finally arrived, and is inside. He curses under his breath, hoping the Pathfinder hasn’t done anything stupid and gotten himself shot again.

Upon entering through the front door, he finds Scott and his group held at gunpoint. The woman has already confessed to the murders, judging by the rigid stance in Scott’s shoulders. Or maybe he’s like that because there’s guns pointed at him, but the man has little regard for his own life, so it’s probably not that. Which leaves him frowning.

“You’re late,” Scott says when Reyes stops next to him, a portion of the guns swinging his way.

“I have a good reason,” Reyes assures him. “You’ll find out in three… two…”

“Kill them,” the female angara says, standing right next to the crate with the explosives.

Reyes pushes the detonator in his pocket, and the crate explodes. The people surrounding it go flying, some hitting the ground and not moving afterward, half of their faces charred off, while others make their way back to their feet, having not been in the direct blast radius.

Scott rushes forward to pick up his gun, and the fight begins.

xXx

They win, of course.

Scott glares down at the female angara in charge of this whole ordeal. In charge of this group of Roekaar here on Kadara. “She didn’t even care that she killed so many,” the Pathfinder says, disgusted. “She didn’t even care that some of them were her own people. I told her I was friendly with the angara, and Jaal even backed me up, but she didn’t care.”

“I’m sorry,” Reyes says, after a moment of hesitation. He’s not sure what to say in this situation; he doesn’t know how to be comforting. But Scott’s face is red, not from being flustered, but because he’s so angry. His blue eyes are bright with it. A part of Reyes thinks Scott looks _hot_ when he’s so fired up, but he shoves those thoughts aside because they _not helpful_. At all. “Some people are just like that. At least we took care of it, though.”

Scott exhales loudly through his nose, nodding. “Yeah,” he mutters. “I guess. At least the murders should stop now.”

“Thanks for the help,” Reyes says, sincerely.

“No problem.”

 _But it is a problem._ Reyes can see it in his eyes, see how this whole thing has gotten to him. Jaal looks just as angry, but sometimes it’s hard to tell with angara. Keema has the _best_ poker face. For a species that wears their hearts on their sleeves, they are pretty good at not being an open book.

Unlike Scott.

Scott’s an open book, but the words refined and complicated, and even though he’s reading him clearly, he can’t make out the meaning.

“Come on,” Reyes says, lightly grabbing Scott’s wrist, tugging him away from the fallen bodies. “Let’s get you a drink.”

Scott allows himself to be led, and Reyes keeps holding onto him.

It’s a terrible idea – but Reyes Vidal is full of terrible ideas.

xXx

Jaal and Vetra return to the _Tempest_ while Scott and Reyes head for the back room of Tartarus. Scott still has that flush to his skin, and the brightness to his eyes; he’s still angry, and Reyes knows he doesn’t want an audience right now. So, the back room it is.

The door closes behind them and Scott sits heavily on the booth seat. For a long moment he stares at the ground, eyes narrows into thin, angry slits. Reyes keeps silent even as he gets some drinks for them from his personal stash back here, and pours a large glass for the Pathfinder. Scott accepts the offered drink without a word, and downs it nearly in one gulp.

Reyes quirks a brow, and pours him another.

“Thanks,” Scott murmurs, accepting it. This one he takes his time drinking.

“You’re upset,” Reyes says.

Scott huffs. “How astute of you.”

Reyes smirks. “It’s one of my many charms.”

Scott doesn’t smile, just stares down into his drink like it has Andromeda’s answers. “I hate this.”

“I can get you something else.”

“No – the drink is fine.”

Reyes nods. “You hate the situation?”

His lips purse into a thin white line. “Yeah, but it’s more than that, too.”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t… want to be Pathfinder,” Scott says quietly, like admitting it aloud will be his downfall, but Reyes won’t judge him for that. From what he knows, the position was shoved at him by his father, without any prior training or guidance. Reyes would hate it too.

“It’s a tough job,” Reyes says. “But you’re doing it well.”

Scott huffs. “Now you sound like SAM.”

“An intelligent, charming AI, surely.”

Scott shakes his head. “I hate the Roekaar. I mean. Not really. I just hate that they think going so far is _okay_. They hate aliens, and yeah, I can get that – but they’re not helping anyone by killing those they hate. They could just stay away from us. But instead they hunt us down and kill us for – what? For fun? For sport? They tortured that poor krogan. They probably tortured all their victims. It’s not enough they killed people – they had to make them suffer first.”

Reyes listens as Scott rants about the Roekaar, keeping silent until the Pathfinder releases a ragged breath and stops talking. Then he refills Scott’s glass one more time. “You need a distraction.”

Another ragged exhale. “I can’t afford a distraction,” he says. “I’m the Pathfinder, and I’m always going to _be_ the Pathfinder, until I fucking _die_ , and I’ll never have time for a distraction or a break or-”

Reyes moves, hands reaching for Scott’s red face. He turns the Pathfinder’s head, and then their lips meet in a rough, heated kiss. At first Scott flails, shocked, but then his hands are yanking against the front of Reyes’ armor, tugging him closer as he finally kisses back.

It’s not perfect.

The angle is painful, their noses knocked together at first, and Scott’s teeth are scraping Reyes’ lip. It’s not perfect, but it was never meant to be perfect.

It’s rough, and desperate, and painful.

When they finally pull apart for air, Reyes swears his lips are bruised or bloody from Scott’s teeth and his own rough connection at first, but that’s okay. He licks at his lips and watches the way Scott’s eyes focus on that movement. His lips twitch into a smirk.

“You need a distraction,” Reyes says again. “I can provide that.”

Scott releases a shaky breath, pupils blown wide. “Please.”

Heat spreads through Reyes, longing burning through him. Hearing the Pathfinder say ‘please’ for him is more than hot. It’s perfect.

During the kiss, Scott’s drink dropped to the floor as he suddenly stopped holding it. Reyes kicks the glass away and scoots closer to the Pathfinder, pushing him against the wall, hands firm on his shoulders.

“Let’s get you out of this armor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, it's a fade to black. Don't ask me how - disobedient little shits, the both of them. Anyway, I don't know if I'll skip over the scene or write it out. We'll see how it goes.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and comments are love! <3


	8. And If You Ask Me to Stay, You Know That's Where I Will Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyes has it bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title comes from "Hypocrite" by Cage the Elephant. 
> 
> It's been a long time since I wrote a scene like this. I hope you're happy. I'm horrified by its terribleness. But - you guys asked and thus you shall receive. 
> 
> I agonized over this chapter. For you. 
> 
> Reyes is slowly turning into my boyfriend. And Scott's turning into me. I don't know how I feel about this. 
> 
> This story is still a disobedient little shit. 
> 
> Thanks for the comments! Keep them coming :D

_ Chapter Eight: And If You Ask Me to Stay, You Know That’s Where I Will Be _

 

The armor on the ground is only a temporary problem, easily pushed aside with a stray foot. They’re both in their underclothes then, Reyes with his mismatched ones and Scott with his black ones. Reyes takes half a second to admire the form-fitting clothing, before he pushes it up and off the Pathfinder, tossing it in a heap on the ground. There’s a considerable tent in Scott’s pants, and his pupils are blown wide, his cheeks flushed. There’s a fire in his eyes that his nothing to do with anger.

His hands slip up Scott’s chest, smoothing over the flat stomach and abs, before they slide back down and tug lightly at the hem of Scott’s pants. The Pathfinder’s breath catches, and Reyes drags his gaze up to focus on those blue eyes. “You want this,” he says quietly, smirking. “Don’t you?”

He won’t do anything Scott doesn’t want. If he changes his mind, and tells him to stop, Reyes will pull away without judgment. Maybe it’s best if they stop, because this is a terrible idea, and he needs to pull away and send Scott back to his ship.

But he can’t do that, because this is a _great_ idea. It makes sense in his head. He’s doing this for Scott – to distract him, because he needs the distraction. They both seem to want this, and it will only be to help the Pathfinder relax, nothing more. No strings. Never any strings.

He can do this.

They can do this.

It doesn’t have to mean anything. It _won’t_ mean anything.

“Yes,” Scott says on an exhale, and that’s all Reyes needs to know.

He tugs Scott’s pants down and off, along with his boxers. Soon they’re both naked, and the door to the room is locked. The music is loud, the floor vibrating in time with the bass. Reyes reaches for a hidden drawer along the back wall, behind the table, and pulls out lube and a condom.

Scott quirks a brow at him. “You bring all your dates here?”

“Only the ones I like,” Reyes says, smirking at him again.

“Well, don’t I feel special.”

“You should.” Reyes’ teeth bite sharply at Scott’s neck, leaving the Pathfinder gasping. “No more talking unless I ask you a question.”

“But-”

He gives another sharp bite. “No.”

Scott goes quiet, body quivering beneath Reyes, where he has the Pathfinder pinned into the booth seat. He’s sitting in his lap, legs sprawled on either side of him. He grinds into Scott, and then hands are on him, pulling him closer. Scott’s mouth is hot and pliable against his own, and teeth nip lightly at his lower lip, tugging at the skin. His fingers scrape down Scott’s chest and stomach, sinking lower as the Pathfinder groans into his mouth, the sound vibrating against his lips.

Scott’s hands slip lower on his body as well. It’s a bold move for the normally flustered Pathfinder, and catches Reyes off guard. Scott uses that brief moment to get the upper hand, and Reyes finds himself flipped, their positions reversed. For a second, he stares up at Scott, before a startled laugh bursts free of his mouth.

“Full of surprises, aren’t you?” he hums, smirking.

Scott’s face is red, his eyes bright, but he grins all the same. “I’m not completely new at this, you know.”

A tingle sparks through Reyes, then, from where Scott’s hands are on him, pushing him down. It’s a spark, an ignition of _something_ , and he sputters out a breath. Scott stops, hesitating.

“Sorry,” he says. “Biotics.”

“Better and better,” Reyes murmurs.

It’s not that it’s a surprise Scott is a biotic; he’s seen him in combat, after all. He doesn’t use it all the time, so it’s easy to forget, but he’s a biotic. Reyes just thought Scott had more control of it, to the point he won’t accidentally use it during these activities. Some biotics like to use for an extra flare, but he’s met a lot who don’t want to use it that way unless the other person agrees to it first.

The fact Scott _can’t_ control it right now, control himself right now, is more than enough for the lust to take over his mind once more.

“Not that I mind this position,” Reyes says, smirking, “but _I’m_ supposed to be distracting _you_ , not the other way around.”

“Why can’t we distract each other?”

Reyes hums. “Well, I suppose that _is_ an option.”

He manages to lift himself up enough to capture Scott’s lips again, slipping his hands low on the Pathfinder’s body, past the coarse hairs and onto something more substantial, even as he flips their positions back around so _he’s_ on top, pinning the slightly smaller body beneath him. The half-sigh, half-moan which escapes Scott’s mouth, vibrating against Reyes’, leaves Reyes biting down on the Pathfinder’s exposed lip, once, before he removes his mouth and instead kisses a trail down the toned chest and stomach. A flicker of blue is the only warning he gets before that static-like charge skips up his fingertips and shocks his lips.

He's certainly not complaining.

“Shut up, SAM,” Scott mutters suddenly.

“Using another man’s name isn’t welcome at this moment,” Reyes informs him with a quick nibble against the flesh around his belly button, leaving the Pathfinder arching into him, their erections grinding together almost painfully, but any friction is appreciated at this point.

“Sorry,” Scott breathes, fingers tangling in Reyes’ hair. “Sorry. Reyes, I need – more.”

“Oh, I know just what you need. Patience, though. And I thought I said no talking?”

“Sorry,” the Pathfinder says again.

“You’re really bad at keeping quiet, aren’t you?”

He emphasizes this by wrapping his hand around the beautiful member standing upright to greet him. Scott is truly a work of art: his body is a toned weapon of death, his biotics are flickering as he loses control, and in this moment he completely belongs to Reyes. It is beautiful, and magnificent.

“Mm,” Reyes hums, “you are beautiful, you know?”

Scott shifts, uncomfortable with the praise, but of course he is. Reyes wonders if he ever really receives praise, romantic or otherwise. Well, Reyes is going to pamper him today. And Scott say anything back, because if he continues to break his silence Reyes will have to take more drastic measures. He always comes prepared, after all, even in Tartarus’ back room.

“So ready,” Reyes continues, dragging his palm up and down the length of the upright member.

A thin trail of precum slicks his hand, allowing him more momentum.

“So needy.”

He licks a trail from Scott’s stomach up to his chest, and then blows lightly on the wetted area, causing the Pathfinder to shiver beneath him.

“All mine.”

Scott’s fingers tighten in his hair, almost painful, but Reyes has always liked it a little rough. It’s why he prefers men, but women can be fun too. Right now, though – all he wants is the man beneath him, and the want is so keen he can barely restrain himself from touching his own throbbing erection. But he has self-control (at least a little) and ignores himself in lieu of pleasuring Scott.

 _Because that will always be more important,_ a part of him whispers.

He shoves those thoughts away, because if he looks at them too long he’s going to – something. Something not pleasant.

He releases Scott, and pulls back slightly. Scott takes a few second to realize he’s moving, and finally releases the hold he has on his hair. Reyes reaches for the condom, and fits it onto himself, stroking himself a few times because he doesn’t have _that_ much self-control. He stops, though, and reaches for the bottle of lube.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks, just to make sure. “You can speak now.”

“Yes,” Scott breathes, swallowing thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing harshly. “Just do it.”

“Shh,” Reyes says. “Let me take care of you.”

The breath Scott releases is a ragged exhale, shaky and broken.

“I’m going to get off you,” Reyes tells him. “I want you to position yourself so you’re comfortable.”

Scott nods jerkily, and Reyes gets to his feet. The Pathfinder shifts so he’s laying on his stomach, but at a slight angle. Reyes wants to look at him while they do this, but if this is how Scott feels more comfortable, then that’s okay with him. Maybe next time.

 _There won’t be a next time,_ he tells himself firmly.

There can’t be a next time. This is it.

He fights with himself for a long moment, long enough that Scott looks over his shoulder at him, frowning somewhat. Reyes exhales. “I want to look at you,” he tells him. “Won’t you let me see you?”

“I…”

“You can speak.”

“I’ve never… done it like that,” Scott admits almost sheepishly, gaze skittering away.

“Never done it face-to-face?” Reyes asks, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Tragic. Well, there’s a first time for everything, and I _am_ the first, correct? At least like this.”

Scott nods, keeping his mouth shut, either because he thinks he can’t talk or because he’s too flushed to speak, Reyes isn’t sure. It doesn’t really matter. He reaches out and cups Scott’s chin in his hand, lifting his head up enough so they’re looking eye-to-eye. Or, at least, they would be if Scott would look at him, but as it is, he’s stubbornly looking at the far wall instead.

“Look at me,” Reyes says.

It takes a second, but Scott tears his gaze from the far wall and finally looks at him, blue eyes meeting brown.

“That’s my boy,” Reyes says, smiling, rubbing his thumb gently along the curve of Scott’s jaw.

“I thought I was your ‘man’,” Scott mumbles.

“That too. Either way you’re mine. Right?”

“I’m yours.”

A pleasant chill runs up Reyes’ spine. He grins. “Of course you are. Now, are you going to let me see you, or are you more comfortable like this?”

He won’t rip him completely out of his comfort zone, after all. He’ll at least give him the option.

Scott exhales slowly. “Whatever you want.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Reyes tells him, “but I’m supposed to be pleasuring you, not the other way around. What do you want?”

“I… could try it.”

“My little trooper,” Reyes grins.

Scott shifts, then, and Reyes releases him. A moment later he’s properly positioned on the long booth seat, with his back partially against the arm rest as he bends his knees, tucking them tight against his chest like he has something to hide. He has nothing to hide. He has no reason to hide from Reyes, because Reyes only enjoys what he sees.

“So, you’ve done this before, right? Bottomed, I mean.”

“I’m a great bottom,” Scott says somewhat defensively, before he flushes again, looking away. “Uh… I mean…”

Reyes quirks a brow. “Later, you’re going to tell me the story of who you said that to before, and why.” That might make him jealous, though; he can already feel it. And he’s not the jealous type. He’s not, because he’s a sampler. He samples everyone, and then he’s done, and that’s all this can be. He’s doing this to help Scott relax, and to get those fantasies out of his mind, nothing more. “Right now, though, I want you to relax.”

He places his hands on Scott’s legs, slowly pushing them down, away from his chest where he’s all bunched up, making himself look smaller. Reyes lets his gaze linger on the Pathfinder’s body a moment longer, before he smiles, noticing Scott watching him.

“You are beautiful,” he says again.

“I’m not,” Scott says.

“Did I say you could speak?” Reyes asks, quirking a brow, and the Pathfinder’s mouth snaps shut. “That’s better. And you _are_. I wouldn’t lie about such things.”

Reyes reaches for the lube again, and squirts some onto his fingers. He’s never been especially big on preparation for this, but he doesn’t want to hurt Scott. Sometimes he likes it rough, of course, but right now, with the Pathfinder – he just wants to make him comfortable, and relax him.

That alone should tell Reyes how completely and utterly fucked he is, but he ignores those thoughts.

Scott squirms slightly as he pushes a finger inside.

“You okay?” Reyes asks.

“Yeah, it’s just – been a while,” Scott breathes, looking at the ceiling. “Keep going.”

Reyes doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips in another finger, and starts stretching. Scott exhales slowly, keeping his gaze on the ceiling, which Reyes will allow for now, but will have to stop here soon.

Once the stretching is finished, he gets some more lube and wipes it down his length, before angling himself. “Last chance to back out.”

“Keep going,” Scott says again.

“Alright – then look at me. I said I wanted to see you, not watching you stare at the ceiling.”

Scott swallows, and drags his gaze from the ceiling to Reyes. Reyes smiles.

“See? That’s not so hard, is it?”

Scott gives a tentative smile back, clearly nervous, but he hasn’t told Reyes to stop yet.

_Good boy._

Reyes slowly pushes himself inside. Scott is so tight and hot – Reyes bites back a moan as the tight heat surrounds him. Scott winces slightly, but it doesn’t last long, because if there’s one thing Reyes knows how to do, it’s how to sexually pleasure someone. Reyes pushes in further, until he’s all the way in, and he stays that way for a few seconds, letting Scott adjust to him, before he starts pulling out.

As he goes in again, he leans over Scott, capturing the Pathfinder’s mouth with his own, keeping his hands firmly plastered on Scott’s chest to keep him pinned. Scott’s body shivers as he pulls back out only to thrust in again, settling a quick but steady rhythm. The Pathfinder moans into his mouth, and Reyes bites back his own moan at the sound. He trails his hands down the Pathfinder’s chest and stomach until they brush against the coarse hairs around his groin, smoothing down until his hand wraps around Scott, eliciting another gasp-moan from the Pathfinder.

Blue flickers briefly around Scott, before it abruptly cuts off and Scott screws his eyes shut.

“Sorry,” he breathes.

“Stop that,” Reyes tells him, using his free hand to flick him on the nose. Scott blinks at him, twitching said nose. “I want no restraints – lose control all you want.”

Scott’s blue eyes are bright, pupils completely dilated with lust. Reyes is sure his own eyes look much the same as he smiles down at the Pathfinder, encouragingly. For some reason he feels like Scott’s just too uncertain of himself to actually relax and let go – and has no reason to be so uncertain. He is perfect.

Well, no one is perfect. Scott isn’t.

But in Reyes’ eyes, it’s his imperfections which make him perfect.

Scott reaches for him, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck to pull him in for another heated kiss. Reyes certainly isn’t complaining. He goes willingly. Reyes nips his lip playfully, nuzzling him with his nose.

“It’s supposed to be fun,” he tells Scott in a quiet whisper, like it’s some big secret.

Scott laughs. Reyes smiles. _Success_.

Scott is a ball of nerves, but Reyes will make him relax one way or another.

 _I don’t know why no one has taught you the joys of relaxing before… but I will show you._ That’s what friends do, after all.

And they are friends. Nothing more. It can’t be more.

If he thinks on that too hard, though, he’ll – panic. There’s a tight knot of dread heavy in his stomach, waiting to pounce, but he shoves it away for the time being, choosing to focus solely on Scott, and the perfect body beneath him.

He quickens his pace, nipping a bitten trail down Scott’s neck and chest. Scott’s fingers are tangled in his hair again as he arches into Reyes, sweat beading his body. Reyes is probably much the same. Scott is still tight but he’s loosening up the more they do this, and his breaths are these short, staccato bursts.

Reyes pumps his hand along Scott’s throbbing member, and Scott arches further, attempting to lift himself off the booth but Reyes’ other hand shoves him back down, fingers splayed across his collarbone.

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Did I say you could move?”

He scratches nails lightly into skin, leaving thin red marks in his wake as he drags his hand the Pathfinder’s chest and stomach, stopping just above his groin. Scott’s hands untangle from his hair and smooth across Reyes’ chest and back down, cool against the heat of his skin. Then Scott’s hands settle solidly on Reyes’ hips, pushing and pulling with Reyes’ momentum.

It takes everything inside of him to _not_ go faster, to take what he wants like he has with others. Today isn’t about him, it’s about Scott, and he rocks himself forward and backward along with Scott’s pushes and pulls, trying hard not to cum in that very moment, Scott’s fingers electric against him, blue flickering around the two of them briefly.

He’s close. He’s so very close, especially when Scott looks at him like _that_ , with that half-lidded, blissful gaze and warm half-smile.

“ _Reyes_ ,” Scott moans, eyes screwing shut. “I’m gonna-” He bites down hard on his lip to keep from saying the words.

Reyes smiles. “Go ahead, Scott. Come for me.”

Scott explodes all over Reyes’ hand, body twitching with pleasure. The view, and the breathy moan torn from Scott’s lips, is all it takes for Reyes to finish as well, and he climaxes inside of the Pathfinder. A moment later, he collapses into Scott, exhausted and sweaty.

Scott breathes deeply, catching his breath. “That was… intense.”

Reyes chuckles. “But did you enjoy it?”

“You know I did.”

“That’s my man.”

He needs to get up and they need to get cleaned off so Scott can return to his ship, but right now, in this moment, Reyes is perfectly comfortable where he is – with his head pillowed against the Pathfinder’s chest, the rhythmic sound of his heart lulling him into a deeper state of comfort.

“So,” he says with a yawn. “Was it good for you?”

“… Perfect,” Scott murmurs, sounding half-asleep, fingers slipping into Reyes’ hair again. “You were perfect.”

No one has ever called him perfect before.

He screws his eyes shut and inhales deeply, breathing in the scent of this moment: Scott, alcohol, sex. This moment is perfect.

He doesn’t want it to end.

“Stay with me.”

He blinks his eyes open. “What?”

Scott chuckles, a comforting rumble beneath his ear. “You told me to stay with you,” the Pathfinder says. “I said okay.”

 _He_ said that?

_Oh, fuck me._

But Scott said yes. He’s not leaving. Reyes can enjoy this moment a little longer, before reality crushes him as it inevitably always does.

His eyes slip closed again. He tilts his head enough to plant a soft kiss to Scott’s chest, and then lays his head back down with a quiet sigh.

In this moment, there is no judgment, no worries of the future, no Charlatan and no Pathfinder.

It’s just a quiet moment between two lost souls finding hope with each other. It’s just the two of them, Scott and Reyes. No titles, no jobs, no differing lifestyles.

He wishes it could stay like this.

_Just for a little longer._

Just let him linger here in this moment, where he is somebody to someone, and for just a little while, he can forget how undeserving he is of this man beneath him. Just for a little while, he can pretend. He can pretend he is a good man – he can pretend he’s the man Scott thinks him to be.

_Just let it linger._

xXx

Reyes shivers in Kadara’s dying sunlight as he makes his way back to his home in the badlands, away from Tartarus, Kadara Port, and Scott Ryder. Scott returned to his ship, and he’s set to leave sometime in the morning. He has to break into a kett facility to free an angara called the Moshae. He’ll be busy for a time. He might not even come back to Kadara.

_Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t._

If he doesn’t return, Reyes won’t have to think about what happened between them, and how much he fucking _misses_ him. He misses Scott, and he hasn’t even left yet. Already he misses the warmth of him against him, the tight feel of being inside of him, misses those stolen kisses and fingers in his hair and-

He misses it. And Reyes Vidal doesn’t miss _anything_ , or anyone. That’s just not who he is.

Except for when it concerns Scott Ryder. Apparently his brain didn’t get the memo on that particular part.

_That was a terrible idea._

He knew. He _knew_ having sex with Scott would complicate things, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. He was doing it for Scott, he told himself. It meant nothing. They came from two completely different lives and Scott already said he didn’t have time for anything like that, so it meant nothing. It has to mean nothing.

_Then why do I feel like this…_

He feels empty, and alone. He’s always alone, but today – today he _feels_ it.

He misses a warm body beneath him. He misses a heartbeat in his ear. He misses quiet laughs and flushed faces and fingers in his hair. He misses Scott calling him _perfect_ , like he’s someone deserving of that word. He misses the half-lidded gaze Scott fixed him with just before he came.

He _misses_.

He kicks open the door to his ‘home’, and stumbles inside. Scott stayed with him all last night, in that back room of Tartarus, before his crew came looking for him this morning. By then they’d thankfully put their clothes (and armor) back on, and Drack and Jaal took Scott back to the _Tempest_. Reyes attempted to drink himself into a stupor after Scott left, before he gave up on that and decided to stagger ‘home’.

It’s not really home. He doesn’t really have one. He just finds a place to sleep.

But as he sinks into his bed, he can’t help but think he was more comfortable yesterday: with Scott, crammed together and on top of each other on the booth seat.

xXx

The kett facility is cleaned out. That’s the news spreading through Kadara. Scott Ryder cleared out the kett facility, saved the angara trapped inside, and killed the kett in charge of that particular facility. He also saved the Moshae, which is a big deal to the Kadara. Keema suggests having a drink in the Pathfinder’s name – Reyes agrees.

In all those reports, there was only one he actually, really, truly listened to: the one regarding the Pathfinder’s status. Still alive, by the skin of his teeth, according to that one singular report.

Reyes Vidal is truly and wholly fucked.

“You have it bad,” Keema surmises. “Have you done him yet?”

“ _Keema_ ,” he hisses.

“What?”

He looks down at the tabletop. “Yes.”

“Well, there you go – that’s all it takes for you, right? He should be out of your system and I won’t have to hear you drone on and on about him again.”

That’s the way it _should_ be, yes. The reality, though…

“ _Oh_ ,” Keema says, seemingly reading his emotions as clearly as if he spoke them aloud, “you got it bad, don’t you? I mean, really bad. You really _like_ him.”

“It’s nothing,” Reyes says.

“If you believe that, you wouldn’t be so sad right now.”

“I’m not sad.”

“Us angara are pretty good at emotions – and you’re _sad_. You miss him, don’t you?”

Reyes huffs. “No. I don’t.”

“Lie to me all you want, but you can’t lie to yourself,” Keema says, shrugging.

He’s been lying to himself for so long, it’s hard to know what’s the truth anymore.

xXx

Reyes can’t sleep.

Every time he closes his eyes, he’s back in Tartarus’ back room, and he’s not alone. If he focuses he can almost believe he’s back in that moment. But the bed is too soft, not boney enough to be a warm body beneath him, and there’s no comforting heartbeat in his ear.

When he does sleep, he dreams of that moment. He dreams of _more_.

It’s a dangerous thing.

He boycotts sleep.

xXx

He debates vid-calling Scott several times, but has no idea what he would say to him if he did. He has no jobs for him right now, so there’s no reason for him to call him.

He just _wants_ to.

It’s been a long time since he’s wanted anything like this.

It almost overshadows wanting to be someone in this galaxy.

Almost.

xXx

His plans regarding Sloane are moving forward slowly. Keema has found a discrete sniper, and he is to meet him sometime next week. After that, he only needs to get Sloane to agree to meet him somewhere alone.

He might be the new ruler of Kadara Port soon, if things go well.

Somehow, it doesn’t make him as happy as he thought it would.

xXx

Scott’s back.

He was gone for two long weeks, but he’s back now.

Reyes only knows this because he got a notification regarding a meeting. Evfra, the leader of the angaran resistance, wants _Shena_ to meet with someone. Reyes doesn’t know who it is he’s meeting with at first: Evfra isn’t overly fond of humans, and of course doesn’t use Scott’s name or title. He just describes him: dark hair, average height, light eyes, snarky. That’s all he gets.

When he walks into Kralla’s Song for the meeting, he’s certainly not expecting to see Scott waiting there at the bar, talking quietly to Umi.

_Oh, great._

Scott doesn’t know he’s Shena.

_Fuck me._

Will he be angry? He knows Reyes is a smuggler, a criminal.

It’s not like he’s telling him he’s the _Charlatan_. He just has a codename, Shena.

He takes a breath and walks up to the bar.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”


	9. Cut My Hair on a Silver Cloud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Scott thinks he's got it together - he doesn't. At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title comes from "Shake Me Down" by Cage the Elephants. 
> 
> Fuck this chapter. Seriously. You have no fucking idea how many times I started this chapter, scrapped it, re-started it, moved things around, changed entire pages... oh my fucking god. I'm so done with this chapter. I agonized over this. Jesus. But it's here now. *sighs* Hopefully it sounds okay. 
> 
> Hopefully I got the traitor's name right. Honestly I forget. I'm going from memory here. This whole story is from memory and my own added bits. So, we'll see how this works out. If the name is wrong, sorry. I'm lazy. 
> 
> I probably won't do more scenes like last chapter. It wasn't written well at all. Sorry. Or maybe I'll get motivated to do more. Who knows xD
> 
> As always - comments are love!

_ Chapter Nine: Cut My Hair on a Silver Cloud _

 

Scott rubs the sleep from his eyes. No matter how much he sleeps, it never seems to be enough. He’s always so _tired_ anymore. Every day (or night, or whatever, considering they’re on a ship so there’s no true night or day) is so long, and sometimes he can’t find it within himself to crawl out of bed.

He’s tired. Of everything.

The only reprieve he’s managed is that short time with Reyes. A mistake, if he’s being honest with himself. It was a mistake, because he doesn’t have time for distractions, or anything like that. Reyes _is_ a distraction, a perfectly good one. Scott enjoys his company, a lot more than he should, and he let himself lose sight of the bigger picture.

It’s why it can’t happen (again).

Maybe in another life…

But in this life, he is the Pathfinder, and he doesn’t have time for distractions.

No matter how much he misses that moment, misses the man, dreams about him sometimes…

He shoves those thoughts away, and rubs at his eyes again. The last time he slept decently was – well, was after he had sex with Reyes. He slept so soundly, crammed against the other man on that booth seat in Tartarus’ backroom.

Thinking of their time together, that day in that back room…

It made him feel _human_ again. In that moment, he was just Scott. Not the Pathfinder, not Scott Ryder, son of Alec Ryder – just _Scott_. And it’s been such a long time since he was just Scott. He has all these responsibilities now, all these titles and jobs and reasons he can’t let himself lose sight of his purpose, but for just a moment, there on Kadara – he was just himself. Just Scott. And he had no responsibilities, no jobs, no titles…

It was nice.

He misses it.

Which is why he can’t have it. Ever. Never again.

 ** _You enjoyed your time with Mr. Vidal,_** SAM says. **_Why do you not allow yourself to enjoy more things?_**

_I just don’t have time for it, SAM._

**_You have time,_** SAM tells him. **_It is good for humans to relax once in a while. Your stress levels decreased when you were together. It is good for you._**

 _I don’t have time,_ he repeats.

It doesn’t matter that he enjoyed it. It doesn’t matter that it brought his stress levels down. It doesn’t matter that it ‘helped’ him.

All that matters is stopping the Archon, and finding a home for everyone in Andromeda.

All that matters is finding a home for his sister to live in when she wakes up.

All that matters is the _Pathfinder_.

Scott doesn’t matter.

Maybe he never has.

xXx

The Moshae doesn’t seem to like him. That’s okay – he’s not overly fond of her, either. She wanted him to destroy the kett facility completely, and everyone inside; he couldn’t do that. He chose to save the angara trapped within, and let the facility stand. It was the only option he could live with, and at the end of the day, he has to be able to live with himself.

He returns her safely to Aya, and she lets him into the vault, as per their agreement.

Aya’s vault is not broken, like the other vaults he’s seen. It is active on its own, without him having to do anything. Inside the vault, he finds a sort of map, connecting to one singular location: somewhere called Meridian. It’s the heart of all these vaults; it’s what is making them work.

They need to find it.

They take a brief shore leave on Aya, while they gather some supplies and unwind after their battle with the kett on Voeld. Scott’s still trying to warm up from that mission. There’s something about that planet that just chills him to his very core, and it takes him hours – days – to finally warm back up.

Many are still recovering from what they learned at that kett facility.

Scott can only imagine what Jaal is going through right now. He’s putting on a brave face, and tries not to let this new knowledge change him, but deep down, he’s completely torn by this new development. The captured angara are being turned into kett, and once the change is complete, nothing is left of the angara they used to be – not even their body. They look, sound, think and feel _kett_. They happily attack their old friends and family. They happily serve the kett. They _are_ kett. Lexi says nothing is left of the angara they used to be, not even their bone structure or _anything_ , but Scott refuses to believe it’s that simple.

How can someone, with their own body, thoughts, feelings and memories, just cease to exist like that? How can they just _stop_ being who they are, and transform into something – someone – else? They’re brainwashed, clearly, but there has to be a way to reverse it, and the damage to their bodies, right? There has to be a way to fix everything, or what’s the point?

He shivers, thinking of anyone he knows becoming a kett like that. Of Jaal, facing the fears of his people. Of Lexi, her theories confirmed. Of _Sara_ …

_No._

He can’t think about Sara like that. He needs her to be okay – needs her to always be okay, because he can’t do this alone.

 _You already are,_ a part of him whispers. _You’re already alone._

He is.

He’s the only Ryder awake and functioning in this galaxy, but he can’t give up hope on his sister. She’s in a coma, and that’s bad enough, but the thought of her _leaving him_ …

It’s too much. He can’t.

SAM won’t let him have a panic attack. He swallows back the fear and tries to think about more positive things.

They need to find Meridian. At least now, they have a destination. A purpose, other than trying to survive, or fighting in a war against the kett. If they get Meridian, then all of this could be over. They might actually win.

He has to think positively, because right now _everyone_ is looking at him as a pillar of strength in these trying times. He’s not sure why they’re looking at him, or why they think _he_ knows what to do, but they’re looking and he has to give them what they need. They need someone to look up to, someone to lean on, and he’ll be that person for them – even if it kills him inside.

 ** _You will endure,_** SAM says. **_You always do._**

He exhales slowly. _Yeah. Thanks._

xXx

Evfra has been keeping secrets. Not that he’s surprised, really; it’s no secret the leader of the resistance doesn’t like humans, or any of the Milky Way species. They’re all aliens to the angara, and the last aliens they encountered were the kett. Their distrust is expected. Still, to have sent Scott after the Moshae even as Evfra withheld certain information… that just rubs him wrong. It’s wrong.

The Moshae was not simply captured, but was instead handed over to the kett, by someone she trusted. Someone Evfra trusted, too, if his tone is anything to go by. He wants the traitor brought to him.

Evfra says his contact on Kadara will help him.

Scott almost laughs. Almost.

Because of fucking _course_ his contact is on Kadara. Of _course_ he has to return to Kadara, where Reyes is. Of _course_ he has to go back to that temptation.

A temptation he can’t have, because he doesn’t have time for distractions.

Andromeda hates him. It’s official.

_Just how unlucky am I?_

**_You act perturbed, but you are happy to return to Kadara._ **

It’s impossible to lie to himself with SAM sharing his headspace.

_It’s complicated, SAM._

**_It doesn’t have to be._ **

SAM, a fucking _AI_ , makes it sound so simple.

But it’s not simple. It’s never going to be simple.

It’s not like Scott has a choice, though – he has to return to Kadara.

He debates the whole way there about contacting Reyes, to let him know he’ll be back on the planet, if he wants to meet up with him… but in the end, he thinks better of it, and shoves those temptations aside. He doesn’t have time for it. He can’t be distracted. And Reyes is a distraction. The _worst_ (best) distraction.

Maybe in another life…

Maybe if he wasn’t Pathfinder…

Maybe if a lot of things were different…

But this is his life right now. This will always be his life, until he dies, because SAM is too far into his system to just stop being the Pathfinder.

This is his life, and he doesn’t have time for distractions, no matter how wonderful they are.

No matter how much he misses them.

He shoves the thoughts away with a quick shake of his head. “How much longer until we reach Kadara?” he asks Kallo, as he stands behind him on the bridge.

“12.2 hours, roughly,” Kallo informs him with a quick look over his shoulder. “Everything okay, Ryder? You look agitated.”

Now Suvi is looking at him too, from his other side. He inwardly scowls even as he forces a smile onto his face. “I’m perfectly fine. Let me know when we arrive.”

With that, he leaves the bridge and slides down the ladder. He wants to go into his room, but he has rounds to make. It’s part of his new process to get him more comfortable with the crew, and out of his usual comfort zone. Every day, every time they return to the ship, he makes his way around the ship to check on all of the crew members, before he allows himself to hide in his room. He jokes with them, eats with them, trains with them: whatever he feels in that moment, whatever he’s offered to do, he tries to say yes to, within reason.

In the past two months that’s left him drinking with Drack, training with Liam and Jaal, arguing with Cora, hugging Cora, playing (losing) poker with Gil, and eating popcorn with Vetra while they watch Gil trounce his newest opponent. Vetra keeps insisting she can take him, but no one has won against their engineer yet. He’s just too good.

Lexi grabs his arm and pulls him aside, AKA into the med bay. He scowls as he’s dragged through the doorway, the door rushing shut behind him. Lexi releases him, then stands there glaring at him. “What’d I do now?” he all but whines.

“SAM tells me you haven’t been sleeping again.”

“SAM, you’re such a fucking snitch,” he mutters, glaring skyward for a moment, before he refocuses on Lexi. “Yeah, well – I’ve been a bit busy. And you know what we learned at that kett facility.”

“So you’re having nightmares?” She quirks a thin brow at him.

He scowls. “Does this have a point? Why did you drag me here?”

“You need rest, Ryder,” she says, sighing heavily. “You need to relax.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Yes, you do. If I have time, so do you.”

“You don’t have absolutely _everyone_ counting on you,” Scott mumbles, looking away. If he thinks about it too hard, he’s not sure what he’ll do. Collapse. Break down. Finally have that panic attack SAM keeps refusing him. Something.

“I know your life is tough right now, Scott,” Lexi says comfortingly, “but it’s rough for everyone right now. I want you to just think about relaxing, okay? It’s not something you should have to _think_ about, but, well – knowing you…”

 _That’s just the problem,_ he thinks, even as he nods and smiles at her, _you don’t know me._

He’s been with this crew for months, and they are getting along well, and he cares about all of them – but at the end of the day, he’s just a means for an end for them. If he wasn’t the Pathfinder, none of them would care about him. If they didn’t need him, none of them would stand by him. He is learning more about them through their downtime and conversations, but they aren’t learning about him.

Mostly because they don’t _ask_.

They tell him about themselves until they’re blue in the face, talk about their dreams, their possible futures, their pasts, their families…

But not a soul has asked about him.

They’ve asked about Sara. They’ve mentioned his father, and asked how he was doing with that. They’ve asked about his mother, and SAM, and what it’s like having an AI in his head.

But they haven’t asked about _him_. They don’t want to know about him. He’s just boring Scott Ryder. If the Ryder wasn’t attached to his name, no one would know him at all. No one would look at him twice.

No one knows _Scott_.

“I’ll work on relaxing,” he tells Lexi, edging toward the door, the smile brittle on his face. “Can I go now?”

She sighs heavily. “Your stress levels are elevated. Please take some time off, before I force it on you. I _can_ do that, you know. I am the doctor.”

He nods, and all but flees the med bay.

 _SAM,_ he thinks. _SAM, what’s wrong with me?_

It’s hard to breathe.

 ** _Your body is trying to have a panic attack,_** SAM informs him. **_I am stopping it._**

_Just let it happen. Please. Just fucking let it-_

**_I cannot allow harm to befall you, and that includes panic attacks._ **

A choked breath escapes him as he finally makes it to his quarters. The door shuts behind him with a quiet whir, but it sounds like a bullet to his sensitive ears. “SAM,” he chokes. “Please. My body keeps trying to have it – just let it fucking happen.”

Maybe then it will stop. Maybe then he’ll stop panicking. Why is he panicking?

 ** _You feel inadequate with your crew,_** SAM says. The words hit him like a physical bullet, a punch to the chest. **_You feel like they do not care about you, but I can assure you only the opposite is true. They do care, Scott._**

 _They care about me helping them,_ Scott thinks, shaking his head, the words trapped in his throat. _They don’t fucking know me. It’s been months, and they_ still don’t know me _, SAM. They don’t_ want _to know me._

**_That is not true. They simply do not want to push you into giving them answers, so they have not been asking._ **

_You don’t know that._

**_While I am not in their heads as much as I am in yours, I do have access to their surface thoughts,_** SAM tells him. **_They care about you._**

_Yeah – because they have to. Because I’m the Pathfinder. If I wasn’t… then no one would give a damn at all._

Even if he considers them his friends – their friendship is only conclusive of his status as Pathfinder. If he wasn’t the Pathfinder, none of them would have noticed him. None of them would be talking to him at all.

**_Scott. Please stop thinking so negatively about yourself. It is detrimental to your emotional health and stability._ **

_And you need me stable. I know. Sorry._

**_Do not apologize. You have done nothing wrong._ **

He swallows thickly. _I’m a mess, SAM. Sorry you got stuck with me._

**_I am not._ **

The words are slow and even – _sincere_? How can an AI sound so sincere?

How can it sound more sincere than anyone in his entire life?

He sucks in a ragged breath. _You don’t mean that,_ he tells the AI. _You’re just programmed to help me. You’re in my head. You know what I want to hear._

He wants to hear that he’s not a complete screw up. He wants to hear he’s not completely useless, or falling apart, or failing at this job. He wants to hear that someone actually wants to be with him, to spend time with him, to enjoy his company.

Even Sara gets tired of him sometimes, though. He can be annoying, and such a screw-up, and he can’t blame her.

To have someone, even an AI, saying they’re not sorry to be stuck with him...

 ** _I am programmed to help you,_** SAM agrees, **_but I was also programmed to learn, and feel, and have my own thoughts. While I do share your head, as you say, that does not mean I am lying. I can’t lie to you. It is not in my programming._**

_Doesn’t mean you can’t learn to lie, SAM. Or say what you think I need to hear to appease me._

**_You do need to hear it,_** SAM tells him, and there’s another punch to his chest. **_That doesn’t make it untrue. You need to hear it, and I do not know why no one has ever said to you before, but I will say it:_** _you are wanted._

The air leaves him a quick rush as he screws his eyes shut, scrubbing a hand across his face. Those are _not_ tears. He is _not_ crying.

He’s just… a little overwhelmed, that’s all.

_But you… you can’t deny that it’d be easier if I was more… together. If I was Sara, or Dad. You can’t deny that, SAM._

**_As I was never with your sister, I cannot speak for her. As for your father, I ‘lived in his head’, but I was never part of him. I never experienced things through him the way I do with you. I might be ‘stuck with you’, but do not apologize for this. I am content._ **

Content.

SAM said that before, when Scott asked if he was happy, being stuck with him.

He exhales shakily, and then inhales, and repeats the process until he can finally breathe again.

_… Thanks, SAM. I’m content with you, too._

**_That is fortunate,_** SAM says, almost sounding like he’s _smiling_ , **_because I am not going anywhere._**

SAM might be stuck with him, but he’s stuck with SAM, too, and that – well, that’s okay.

xXx

Kadara looks the same as it did when he left it weeks ago. He runs a hand down his face almost unconsciously, feeling the slight stubble there. He forgot to shave before exiting the ship. Oh well. It’s not like he’ll meet Reyes here this time. The smuggler doesn’t even know he’s here, unless he’s keeping tabs on the docks, which – well, Scott doesn’t exactly put it past him. He has ‘sources’, after all. Whatever _that_ means.

Scott’s here to meet someone named Shena, Evfra’s contact. They can give him a lead on the traitor they’re after. He has no idea who this Shena person is, but Evfra assured him they would meet him in Kralla’s Song. So he goes there to wait, and chats quietly with Umi, the bartender.

It’s as he speaking with Umi that someone stops next to him.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

Scott’s breath catches in his throat as he glances over at Reyes, who is standing right next to him, a smirk present on his face. Scott immediately remembers the last time he was in this man’s presence, and his cheeks flush briefly before he manages to shove those thoughts away.

 _Act natural,_ he tells himself. _It didn’t mean anything._

“Hey,” he says, swallowing. “Uh, what… what are you doing h-…” His eyes narrow. Evfra said the person would find him. This _Shena_. “Don’t tell me _you’re_ Shena.”

“I know – I don’t look so angaran,” Reyes says with a shrug. “Shena is a codename. I hate codenames, but they are necessary sometimes.”

Scott snorts. “So do I call you Reyes or Shena?” _And why didn’t you tell me before?_

“Reyes.”

He exhales. “So… when were you going to tell me you had a secret identity?”

Reyes is quiet for a moment. Then he sighs heavily, turning away from him long enough to gesture for Umi to get them some drinks. “Shena is just a codename.”

“Why do you need a codename?”

“It seemed like the sensible choice, at the time,” Reyes tells him.

The drinks are placed on the counter. Reyes grabs his, and quirks a brow at Scott. Scott shakes his head.

“No thanks. I’m on a job.”

“You’re always on a job,” Reyes tells him. “You need to learn to relax a little.”

The image of Reyes above him, and inside of him, and _everywhere_ , fills his mind. He swallows and blinks it away. “If you’re Shena, then you know why I’m here. It’s a sensitive matter. I shouldn’t drink.”

“You absolutely _should_ ,” Reyes says, “because your man has been subdued by Sloane. The people are calling for his execution for what he did to the Moshae, and Sloane is a woman of the _people_.”

“Great,” Scott mutters. Why is nothing ever easy? He picks up the drink, and takes a long guzzle of it. It burns all the way down, but he manages not to grimace. “So what do I do?”

Reyes smiles at him. “I’ll help you. Speak with Sloane, see if she’ll let you take him, but I highly doubt she will. While you’re there, I’ll pursue other avenues.”

“Alright,” Scott says, nodding. It’s their only option right now.

Reyes turns to walk away. “See you later,” he calls over his shoulder.

Scott shakes his head and moves to leave as well, when Umi clears her throat and glares at him, long and hard.

“What?”

She looks at the two empty drinks and back to him.

“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me!”

xXx

“What the fuck do you want _now_?” Sloane asks by way of greeting.

“Just a prisoner of yours,” Scott replies with a shrug. “Not that difficult.”

“A prisoner, huh? Which one.”

“Vehn Terev,” Scott says, proud of himself for pronouncing it right on the first try. Sometimes he is really bad at that.

Sloane snorts, sprawled in her chair, leaning all the way back against it, like he’s not even worth the effort of sitting up. Scott bristles, if only slightly. “The angara want his head,” she says. “Tell you what – you can talk to him before I put his head on a spike.”

Scott scowls. “No deal. You don’t have the right to judge him. It was an angaran crime, and he belongs back on Aya.”

Sloane laughs, harsh and bitter. “You think you have a right to ask _anything_ of me, Initiative slime?”

 _Oh, I’m slime now? I thought I was scum._ “I’m not asking.”

A bold choice of words, considering.

A man lifts a gun at him. He’s standing really close, too. A part of Scott just reacts – it’s over so quickly he’s unaware he even moved. But suddenly the gun is in his hands and the man’s wrist is snapped. He’s holding the gun at Sloane now. A smile flits across his face; he hopes it doesn’t look as shaky as it feels.

_SAM, what was that?_

**_They were going to shoot you. Their intentions were clear._** A brief pause. **_I reacted._**

He breathes out steadily through his nose. _You controlled me? Made me do that?_

**_I apologize; I reacted without thought._ **

It was an instinctual reaction, and it might have just saved his life, but that doesn’t mean Scott is okay with any of this.

 _We’ll discuss this later._ Later, because he doesn’t have time for a near-panic attack right now. Later, when he’s alone and can think of all the implications properly.

A shiver runs down his spine.

The hears the tell-tale _click_ of other guns being aimed at him. He can feel their steady gazes behind him.

Sloane’s mismatched eyes are narrow slits. “ _Get. Out._ ”

He smiles again. “Your majesty.”

He takes his leave, then, his heart racing furiously in his chest. He keeps the disarmed man’s gun trained on everyone as he leaves, simply so they don’t try to literally shoot him in the back. He doesn’t put it past them, after all, especially when Sloane seems this angry. His mind is racing, thoughts a whirlwind he can’t control, and he all but staggers out of the Outcast Headquarters.

Reyes is waiting just outside, around the corner from the place. A hand grabs his arm, leads him into the shadows. His mind is still racing, but something tells him he can trust this person, so he allows the movement.

“I don’t remember you going in with a weapon,” Reyes murmurs, gently prying the gun from his numb fingers.

“What? Oh. Yeah. Um… things didn’t go so great with Sloane.” He looks around. They’re completely alone here. He thinks. “If she didn’t have a hit on me before, she might now.”

Reyes clicks his tongue. “The friends you make. Well – why you were dancing with Sloane, I found you a way in to see Terev.”

Scott’s gaze slides back toward the smuggler. Reyes is smiling, but there’s something hidden in his eyes. Something he can’t quite place. Something dark. “Yeah?”

“Give him this when you see him; I’ll have a shuttle waiting to get him back to Aya.”

xXx

Vehn Terev is a torn man who made the wrong choice, and now he must live with the consequences. Scott thinks about their meeting the whole way back to the _Tempest_. He didn’t agree with Evfra’s leadership, and thought he could end the war by giving the kett what they wanted: the Moshae. A part of Scott can see the reasoning behind his decision; the other is furious that he would just throw away someone’s life like that.

He clearly regrets the decision, and realizes he was used by the kett, but at the time – he believed he was right. He thought he was doing the right thing. But, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Good intentions mean nothing in the end.

At nightfall, Terev is supposed to break out of his cell with Reyes’ help, and then get to the shuttle Reyes has waiting for him. Scott isn’t really a part of this plan, he realizes. Why was he needed here, again? Evfra could have just had Reyes retrieve the traitor, instead of making him come back here.

“Leaving so soon?”

The voice startles him, but honestly, it shouldn’t anymore. He looks over and sees Reyes leaning against the wall next to the docking zone for the _Tempest_ , much like Cora was when she was babysitting the Nomad.

Scott draws in a slow breath and smiles. “Hey, you.”

Reyes pushes off the wall, ditching the casual look. His eyes narrow. “If you think Sloane has a hit on you, why walk around alone?”

Is that… _worry_ in Reyes’ gaze? He can’t be sure. He scowls. “Honestly, I was trying not to think about it. Thanks for reminding me.”

“We need to work on your survival instincts.”

A chill slips down his spine. “I think SAM’s got that covered,” he mutters without realizing his mouth is moving.

Suddenly, everything is in question. If SAM can alter his thoughts, give him information by making him think they’re his own thoughts, and can control his body… then how can he be sure of _anything_ he’s doing? How can he be sure it’s _him_ making decisions, and not SAM? How can he be sure it’s _him_ that likes Reyes, and not SAM?

**_I can assure you, I do not like Mr. Vidal._ **

_Yeah… Yeah, okay._

“You look… rough,” Reyes says.

Scott snorts. “Yeah, thanks. Real charmer, aren’t you?”

“I do try,” Reyes smiles. “But I am serious.” He pauses, and then seems to think better of himself, as he steps away with a nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“How do you know?” Scott asks.

Reyes smirks. “See you tomorrow,” he says again.

He huffs. “Yeah, okay. Oh, wait. I almost forgot.”

Reyes turns to look at him again, frowning somewhat. Scott takes two quick steps forward and punches him in the face. Not hard enough to break bone, but certainly hard enough to hurt. Reyes staggers back, surprised, and raises a hand to his cheek.

“That’s for leaving me with the tab. Again.”

Reyes smiles. “Rough. I like it.”

Scott flushes, glaring at him. “I warned you what would happen if you did it again.”

“A man of your word. Better and better.”

“Don’t make me punch you again.”

Reyes smirks. “Until next time, Scott.”

He shrugs. “Sure. See ya.”

He watches Reyes leave, and then turns to enter the _Tempest_.

Jaal is in the cargo bay waiting for him. “How did it go?”

“If all goes well, Vehn Terev should be on his way to Aya by tonight,” Scott tells him with a smile.

Jaal nods. “Thank you, Ryder.”

Scott shrugs. “I think I’m gonna sleep. Comm me if you need me.”

He slips past the angara, and makes his way to his room. Normally he would try to make rounds, but right now he just wants to be alone. He has a lot to think about.

SAM controlled him. It might have saved his life, but those still weren’t his actions. And what if SAM had pulled the trigger? What if he killed for him?

 ** _Scott, I only did it to protect you,_** SAM says.

_I know, SAM._

The thing is – he _does_ know that. SAM was designed to help him, so he knows SAM was only trying to protect him. It still bothers him, though, that SAM has that much control over him, that he’s that deep into his systems.

**_I apologize if worried you._ **

_It’s okay. I’ll get over it. Thanks for… looking out for me._

It’s terrifying, but at the same time, he guesses it means SAM cares.

He at least cares enough about switching bodies again that he doesn’t want it to happen, and is protecting him because of that. Scott would like to believe there’s more, but at its core, SAM was mostly likely suffering from his own survival instincts, rather than protection for Scott.

But that’s okay.

Right?

He swallows.

He’s not sure if anything around him means anything – if anyone truly cares about him, or if it’s all just circumstantial.

He just wants something to be _real_. Is that so much to ask?

xXx

Vehn Terev’s information, given to Scott while they spoke alone before he gave the angara a way out of his cell and to the ship Reyes had waiting for him, turns out to be solid. They have a lead on where the Archon is heading. If they get Meridian’s location from him, and destroy him in the process, everything might actually turn out okay. For once, he just wants things to work out like they’re supposed to.

How much bad luck could he possibly have? Andromeda can’t be _that_ unfair.

Right?

Right now they’re just waiting on Suvi and the rest of the team to track the signal given to them by Terev. It might take a while; it’s in a complex language, and requires SAM’s help. Scott tries to stay out of trouble so SAM can focus solely on the research, but even so, the AI’s mind is divided constantly.

For the first two days, Scott stays on the _Tempest_ , where he can’t possibly get into trouble.

On the third day, he gets bored.

Even he gets tired of alone time after a while.

So he decides to visit Kadara Port. He takes precautions, and lets everyone know where he’s going in case he doesn’t come back, or SAM sends them a distress signal. No, he doesn’t want or need their company; he can look after himself. He’s a big boy.

So he leaves the ship, and who is waiting for him but Reyes Vidal.

He smiles. “Are you stalking me?”

Reyes smirks. “I hardly need to stalk you when I always know your location. This _is_ your ship, after all.”

“How’d you know I’d be leaving right now?”

“I have my ways.”

“Mm-hmm. You know, mysterious isn’t always a good thing.”

“Very well. Your AI told me to keep an eye on you, since you apparently have no survival instincts.” Reyes grins. “Is that better?”

“SAM, what the fuck?” Scott mutters, glaring at Reyes because he can’t glare at the AI in his head.

**_I am only looking out for your well-being. Sloane may very well want you dead after Terev’s escape._ **

That’s right. Vehn Terev is safely back on Aya, awaiting judgment from the Moshae and Evfra. Sloane has to know it was him that let him loose, even if she has no concrete evidence.

“You done talking to yourself?” Reyes asks.

He scowls. “So, what? You’re my babysitter? I don’t need one, you know. I’m a big boy.”

Reyes _grins_ , all predatory teeth. “Yes, you are.”

He flushes, feeling the heat creep all the way down his neck. He remembers Reyes above him, teeth at his neck, little nips here and there. He does _not_ have an erection. He has more control than a teenage boy.

 _Who am I kidding?_ He has no self-control. None.

Reyes looks good today. He’s ditched his armor and is wearing more casual attire. A leather jacket, black boots, and dark blue jeans. He looks comfortable, and _good_. Has he said that? Reyes is hot. And it’s hot in here today. Because Scott’s sweating.

“Let’s go,” Reyes says, nodding away from the ship, further into Kadara Port.

“Go where?” Scott asks, even as the smuggler’s warm fingers curl around his wrist and gently tug him forward.

“You’ll see,” Reyes tells him, throwing a wink over his shoulder.

xXx

They’re on top of a building, drinking in Kadara’s dying sunlight.

It’s… almost romantic, except for the cheap swill they’re drinking. Not exactly good quality, but it gets the job done. They don’t drink too much, though, because they need to be able to get safely back down.

It’s a perfect view of Kadara Port, in all its chaotic glory.

“So, what’s Aya like?” Reyes asks.

“You’ve never been there?” Scott asks, confused. “I thought you were Evfra’s contact.”

“I am, but that doesn’t mean I’ve ever been off this planet,” Reyes tells him, taking a long guzzle of the last bottle. “Been stuck on this planet since we left the Nexus. Some smuggler I am.”

“You’re a great smuggler,” Scott says, and then winces. “Uh… I mean…”

Reyes smirks at him. “Why thank you. I didn’t know you enjoyed my criminal history so much.”

He scowls. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. But it’s fun to tease you.”

“Yeah, yeah – laugh it up.”

“So what’s Aya like?” Reyes asks again.

Scott shrugs. “It’s – different. It’s beautiful, but kind of strange, too. There are waterfalls, but there’s also a lot of lava and volcanos right outside the city, so…”

“A beautiful danger.”

“Yeah. I like that.” Scott smiles. “A beautiful danger. Kinda poetic, coming from you.”

“I have my moments,” Reyes says, taking another guzzle of his drink.

Scott brings his own bottle up to his lips, swallowing the liquid to hide his smirk.

 _I shouldn’t be here,_ a part of him whispers. He knows he shouldn’t. Reyes is a temptation he doesn’t need, and he should be working on stopping the Archon and finding Meridian, and fixing Andromeda for everyone. That’s a lot to put on a twenty-two-year-old’s shoulders, and a lot to put on a single man. He has so much to do. He shouldn’t be here.

But right now, it’s just a waiting game. He can’t move forward until SAM and Suvi decipher the language the signal given to them by Terev. Until then, he’s stuck here, waiting. So he might as well enjoy it.

He enjoys Reyes’ company a little too much. It’s dangerous to keep interacting with him. A temptation.

But Scott likes it, and right now, there’s so little about his life he actually _likes_ … that he can’t stop himself from enjoying Reyes.

Reyes leans over him to peer down at the port below. “It’s quiet from up here. Almost makes you think it’s safe.”

“Almost,” Scott agrees, inhaling the scent of Reyes. It calms him a way the alcohol doesn’t.

 _Keep it together, Scott,_ he tells himself. _You can’t afford a distraction._

 ** _You can,_** SAM tells him. **_I do not understand why you won’t let yourself have what you clearly want._**

 _It’s complicated,_ he tells the AI.

**_Scott, you do not always have to be working so hard. Take a day off. Relax. Follow Dr. T’Perro’s advice. It will lower your stress levels._ **

_That’s what I have you for. You can lower my stress levels by hacking my physiology or whatever. I don’t need to relax._

**_I can only do so much. Relax, Scott._ **

He wants to. He just doesn’t have time, and if he lets himself relax, lets himself enjoy Reyes and gives into temptation… then what will happen further down the road, when it inevitably conflicts with something he’s doing as a Pathfinder? What if he has to choose between stopping the Archon or saving someone he cares about? He can’t risk emotional entanglements.

It’s too dangerous.

 ** _Relax._** A pause. **_For me._**

Scott exhales loudly. “So, do you come up here often?” he asks the smuggler.

Reyes is still very close to him, partially leaning over him as he continues looking down at the port below them. Scott breathes in the scent of him, because if that’s all he can have – then so be it.

“Not so often,” Reyes says, exhaling slowly. “Don’t tell anyone – but I am afraid of heights.”

Scott can’t help it – he laughs. “Seriously? But you dragged me up here!”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Reyes mutters. “And it _is_ a nice view. But I don’t like heights. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me,” Scott assures him, smiling at him.

Reyes’ gaze leaves the view below, and instead focuses on Scott. He’s very close. Only a few inches separate them. He can count the flecks in Reyes’ eyes. “I’ve never told anyone that,” the smuggler confesses quietly, looking almost – confused. “Why did I tell you?”

“I don’t know,” Scott says, voice equally as quiet. “But I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know you won’t.” Now he just looks _more_ confused. “I _know_ you won’t.”

“Yeah… you said that…”

He’s very close. Too close.

Scott exhales slowly. If he tilts his head a little, and leans forward… they could be kissing. He could have Reyes’ mouth on him again. A pang of want shoots through him, so sharp it leaves him gasping.

_I can’t._

**_You can._ **

Reyes’ eyes are staring at him, soft brown orbs aflame in the dying sunlight.

He’s so close.

Scott tilts his head. Reyes leans forward.

They meet in the middle, a kiss soft as clouds.


	10. Sink My Teeth in Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this can work after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "Back Against the Wall" by Cage the Elephant. 
> 
> I am so tired, guys. And sore. I had a really bad day, and now I think I have to start my medical leave early, which really sucks because that's just a hassle getting work to approve those days. So I'm stressed. Fun. 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter was a pain, too. I had it going in a completely different direction, went back and wrote a new part, then ditched the second half of the chapter, and wrote it differently. Ugh. What a pain. 
> 
> But this is probably the most light-hearted chapter xD 
> 
> Comments are absolute love! <3
> 
> Enjoy.

_ Chapter Ten: Sink My Teeth in Deep _

 

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

The words are soft and quiet, but startle him nevertheless. He thought he was being discrete, sneaking back aboard the _Tempest_ halfway through the night. He thought everyone would be asleep, but there stands Vetra Nyx, configuring something in the cargo bay. Her eyes watch him carefully, and he smiles nervously.

“Uh… what do you mean?” he asks.

“Reyes Vidal,” Vetra says pointedly. The name sends a flutter in Scott’s heart. “I hope you know what you’re doing with him.”

He exhales sharply through his nose. “Uh… we’re not…”

“I know you like him,” Vetra tells him. “And he likes you. I’m not stupid; I can see what’s happening. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Why do you say that?” Scott asks, because there’s no point in trying to deny it again. He’s not sure how Vetra knows, but she does. Maybe they weren’t as discrete as they thought. Does she know they had sex once, in Tartarus’ back room? Does she know they kissed again, on the rooftops, hot and heavy and passionate? Does she know just thinking about Reyes makes his heart race? How good are turians’ hearing, again?

“He’s a smuggler,” she says.

“So are you,” he argues, scowling. “I don’t hold it against you.”

“I’m just saying – I know his type. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He swallows thickly. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Reyes is a liar, and a cheat,” Vetra says.

“You don’t know him,” Scott argues.

“I know his type. I’m just saying – be careful, Ryder.”

“Thanks for the concern,” he says through gritted teeth, “but I can handle myself. I’m a big boy.”

She nods. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

With that, she leaves him alone, and he’s left staring after her, his heart clenching painfully.

_It’s nothing._

He’s just – having fun with Reyes. Releasing stress, relaxing, like everyone keeps _telling_ him to do. They should be happy about that, right? But now Vetra is _concerned_. Because he’s – what? Seeing Reyes? No, that’s not the correct term, that makes it sound like they’re dating and they most definitely _aren’t_. They’re just – blowing off steam together. That’s it.

They’re just relaxing.

There’s nothing to worry about.

He makes his way to his quarters, the taste of Reyes and alcohol still on his lips.

xXx

The _Tempest_ is quiet at night. Scott’s always liked the quiet, especially these days when it seems so much is always happening at once, all around him. The down time is few and far between. As much as he got bored earlier, he still likes the quiet of the ship at night when everyone is asleep.

He’s certain someone is awake, but the halls are empty as he walks them. He can’t sleep; he has trouble with it all the time these days. Lexi won’t give him any more sedatives; she says he needs to find a better coping mechanism, and a more natural way to sleep. He has no idea what she wants him to do; he can’t sleep because of the stress and worries about the future and the fight to come. How can he fix that? How can he fix it so he can sleep naturally again?

That one night with Reyes helped, a part of him whispers. He can’t help but agree. Reyes certainly tired him out, and he slept so soundly in Tartarus’ back room.

But that can’t happen again.

He and Reyes kissed (a few times) but that doesn’t mean anything. He can’t afford emotional entanglements right now.

 _You’re already attached,_ his mind says. _There’s no point denying it._

He’s not attached. He’s just having fun. That’s all. That’s all it can be.

_But what if it’s more…_

It can’t be, he tells himself firmly. He relaxed, for SAM’s benefit, mostly. SAM asked him to relax for him, and he knows his own stress is taking its toll on the AI. SAM can only regulate his systems so much without it putting a strain on his own capabilities. Scott will never endanger the AI, so he’ll relax, and SAM asked him to.

_But that’s not the only reason, is it?_

He likes Reyes. More than he should.

That’s why it _can’t_ happen again.

_But you’re thinking of him right now._

_Shut up, Mind. I don’t need your input._

SAM is quiet at the moment, and Scott chooses not to think of that.

Instead, he decides to take a trip to the cargo bay, and tire himself out the old fashioned way – with good old exercise.

He’s twenty minutes into his new, fast-paced routine when his omni-tool pings, telling him he has a new message. He sighs, and stops the biotic barrier he’d created. It might be important, since the message is coming this late. Even by Nexus standards.

He switches on his omni-tool and starts reading the message.

_Are you up? – Reyes Vidal_

He stares at the message long and hard. He just left Reyes two hours ago, after they climbed down from the rooftops. It was a good day, all in all. It’s always a good day with Reyes. That’s why it’s so dangerous to be talking to him.

Scott wants to answer – he really does. He wants to say _yes_ , he is awake, and what does Reyes need? Does he want to see him again?

He wants to see Reyes again.

That’s why he ignores the message, and shuts down his omni-tool.

The workout routine doesn’t distract him as much as he hoped.

xXx

Two days later, he’s not _avoiding_ Reyes so much as he just hasn’t left the ship. It’s driving him a little crazy, being trapped inside again, but he’s keeping busy with the crew when he can. Many are enjoying their little ‘shore leave’ while they wait for information on the Archon, and this ‘Meridian’, so they’re not on the ship as much, but when they are, they all get together for poker.

Gil wins. Always.

Gil also sends him embarrassing poetry about Scott losing so horribly, and Gil finding his life’s purpose. Scott swears he’ll beat him one day; Gil just laughs.

SAM says he could help Scott win, but he’s not going to cheat. He’ll beat Gil Brodie fair and square at his own game one day, even if it’s months, years, from now.

Thinking about the future is… difficult. It means accepting his role as Pathfinder, and he’s still just not sure he can do that yet. He’s doing okay, sure, but that’s with a lot of help. It’s not just him. He’d be nothing if not for SAM, and Cora, and all the rest of his crew. His successes aren’t just _his_. It’s a team effort all around.

And when he thinks about the future… he thinks of being Pathfinder a year from now, and what that will be like, and a part of him just internally freaks out about it. SAM still won’t let him have that panic attack, so he’s been trying to curb his emotions by distracting himself. He works out with Liam and Jaal, gambles with Vetra and Gil, and practices his biotics with Cora. His drinking tolerance with Drack is ‘getting better, for a squishy human’, according to the old krogan. He’ll take that as a compliment.

So. He’s not avoiding Reyes.

He’s just busy, and hasn’t left the ship.

When he _does_ leave the ship, though, the smuggler is waiting for him.

A smile spreads across Scott’s face before he realizes what’s happening. He doesn’t try to curb it. “You _are_ stalking me, aren’t you?” he accuses lightly, falling in step next to the smuggler as they walk into Kadara Port.

“Well,” Reyes says easily, with a sideways glance at him, “the view is quite remarkable.”

Scott swallows thickly. “So you admit to stalking me.”

“No, but if I _did_ stalk you, is that really so bad?”

He scowls. “How do you always know when I’m leaving the ship?”

“I have my sources.”

“Uh huh.”

Reyes flashes him a quick grin, all white teeth and charm. “You doubt me?”

“Who’s your source?”

“I can’t give away names. But it rhymes with ‘ham’.”

“Oh my fucking god. SAM, are you kidding me?” Scott mutters.

 ** _He wanted to know. I saw no harm in telling him,_** SAM says. **_You enjoy his company, and your stress levels lower 10.4% when you are in his presence._**

“My AI is such a fucking snitch,” Scott sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Reyes says, quite suddenly.

Scott nearly misses his next step, staggering forward one step. “Um. No, I haven’t.”

“You have,” the smuggler says firmly. “What I want to know is why.”

“I’m not avoiding you. I’ve just been busy.”

“You’ve been avoiding me since we kissed on the rooftops.”

He doesn’t have to remind Scott of that moment; it’s seared into his mind in all the best possible ways. He tries to forget it, forget how he _felt_ , but it’s so incredibly _hard_ , especially when Reyes is right next to him. The mere sound of his voice lulls Scott into a false sense of calm he can’t afford to have right now.

 ** _Relax,_** SAM tells him.

_I can’t afford the luxury._

**_You can._ **

He wants to. He wants to so _badly_ , but he can’t. He’s too busy, he has too many responsibilities to even be _thinking_ of something like this, and he can’t afford emotional attachments right now. He can’t afford them _ever_ , because he’s always going to be the Pathfinder.

“I’m not avoiding you,” he says again, almost absently, as he keeps his gaze focused straight ahead. It’s easier to imagine Reyes means nothing to him if he’s not looking at him. If he can’t see him… he can just pretend…

“You _are_.” A hand grabs his arm, pulling him to a stop. “Scott. Look at me.”

He exhales slowly through his nose, and slides his gaze toward Reyes. The man’s own honeyed eyes are staring at him, into his soul.

“Do you regret what happened on the rooftops?” Reyes asks quietly. “If you do, tell me now, and we’ll drop the matter entirely.”

 _I regret it,_ he wants to say. _Needs_ to say. It’s the only way this can go.

But when he opens his mouth to say the words, to shatter whatever _this_ is between them, he can’t do it. He can’t find the words, he can’t find his voice, he just _can’t do it_. He freezes, staring wide-eyed at the smuggler in front of him, a lump in his throat.

Reyes watches him carefully, gaze softening somewhat the longer Scott stays quiet. There are little flecks of dark brown hidden in the lighter color of Reyes’ eyes. Scott counts them as he struggles to find his voice, to say the words he knows he has to say, to-

 ** _Scott, do not deny yourself this,_** SAM says. **_You want this. You need this. You need to relax. Do not deny yourself meaningful connection simply because you are the Pathfinder. Relax._**

He wants to. He wants to so badly, but he can’t. He _can’t_.

“I’m the Pathfinder,” he finally manages to say, his voice this broken _thing_ scraping its way out of his mouth. “I… I _can’t_.”

“You’re the Pathfinder,” Reyes agrees, voice just as raw. “You _can_.”

“I like you,” he blurts, flushing once he realizes what he’s said. Reyes’s lips twitch into a tiny smile. “I like you a lot more than I should.”

“Well,” the smuggler says slowly, smirking, “it’s good to know this isn’t one-sided.” He steps closer, into Scott’s personal space. Scott freezes – not that he could go anywhere even if he wanted to, because Reyes’ hands are on his shoulders, carefully holding him in place like he’s a skittish puppy. “I like you, too, Scott Ryder.”

And then his lips are on Scott’s again, and it’s _safe warm happy content_ -

It’s a burst of feelings too quick to decipher, and, overwhelmed, Scott caves.

His hands cling to Reyes’ shirt, tugging him forward as the smuggler’s mouth claims his own in a kiss too deep and passionate to be _nothing_.

This isn’t nothing.

It’s _something_.

It’s everything Scott wants and knows he can’t have, but he can’t fight it anymore. He’s too tired, too jaded. Too tired to keep fighting this _something_ , and Reyes makes him feel _safe happy warm content_ and in that moment, he ceases to be the Pathfinder.

He’s just Scott, and Scott wants so keenly it leaves him breathless. Or maybe that’s just Reyes kissing him.

The smuggler pulls back, and for a second the two catch their breath. Then Reyes’ forehead is on Scott’s, and he’s so incredibly _close_ , and his voice is quiet and sincere when he speaks.

“I care about you.”

The words seem so simple coming from the smuggler’s lips, but they get trapped in Scott’s throat when he tries to repeat them. He swallows around the words and then smashes his lips against Reyes’ once again, pulling him close to convey everything he can’t find the words to say.

He knows he shouldn’t, that this can only end in disaster, that they lead completely different lives – but he’s tired of fighting it, and just once, he wants to be happy.

Even if it’s only temporary.

xXx

When he sleeps, he dreams.

His dreams are filled with Reyes, and the taste of him along Scott’s tongue, the smell of him thick in the air.

He is perfect.

He wakes and scurries to the bathroom for a cold shower, ignoring SAM’s inquiries about this ‘reaction’.

xXx

The next morning is freezing. The temperature is steadily dropping in Kadara as the cooler months arrive. It won’t ice over, but he’s heard rumor that it can snow, but it never sticks. That’s good, he supposes. He doesn’t need to worry about ice on top of everything else here.

It’s chilly, though, the temperature around 24F. Scott shivers, wrapping his jacket tighter around himself as he steps off the _Tempest_. His breath mists in the air in front of him. It reminds him of Earth, and a pang of longing shoots through him. He misses the Milky Way, even the bad parts. His misses cold winter nights and hot summer days. Here, it’s all the same – it just depends what planet you’re on. Voeld is always freezing and icy. Eos is always hot and humid. Aya is… well, Aya. He doesn’t know too much about it. He should probably look into it, though, since his crew member is from there.

He strolls out of the _Tempest_ and into Kadara Port, mostly to just get off the ship for a while, and also because he heard tale that someone here has coffee beans, and a cup of coffee sounds _amazing_ right now. He hasn’t had a cup since he first woke from cryo. There’s some on the Nexus, but it’s rationed for the higher-ups. He doesn’t want to drink any if his crew can’t enjoy it as well. So, he’s decided to track some down here, and get enough for the crew to enjoy at least one cup with him.

Vetra insisted on popcorn instead of coffee; that’s fine with him. Popcorn is just as hard to come by, though – it’ll take some digging.

He’s up for the challenge, though. Being off the ship is a relief, honestly. He’s not a smuggler by any means, like Vetra or Reyes, so tracking what he wants down will be difficult, but it’s better than playing Pathfinder. Maybe one day he’ll get used to it. Today is not that day.

It does get a little easier, though – as the days pass by. He still thinks he’s terrible at this job and it should be Cora, or hell, even Sara, but not him. He’s not Pathfinder material. But with SAM’s wonderful help, he thinks he might actually be doing okay, so far. He’s made many mistakes, of course, but he’s also settled two worlds, fixed a third, and he’s on semi-friendly terms with the angara. At the end of the day – it’s a win, right? And he did that. Not alone, and it certainly not easily, but he was a part of it.

A part of him feels _accomplished_ , and it’s been such a long time since he’s felt _that_ particular emotion. Pride swells within him, either his own or SAM’s, he’s not sure. Maybe it doesn’t matter. He’s proud of himself, for once. On this moment, on this chilly morning – he is proud of himself.

He’s not sure how long this feeling will last, of course; he’s sure there is going to be a dark turn just around the corner, but for now, he is going to enjoy himself.

 ** _I am proud of you,_** SAM tells him as he’s walking through Kadara Port, eying vendors who give him shifty looks. Maybe he should have worn different clothing; this does kind of scream _Initiative_. Some people are friendlier with him now that he’s fixed Kadara’s vault, but many still are wary of him, and dislike his presence simply on principle. Then there’s the fact Sloane probably wants him dead right now. Maybe leaving alone wasn’t the best idea – but he has SAM. He’ll be okay.

A part of him is honestly surprised Reyes isn’t waiting to greet him like he has the past few times he’s left the ship, but it’s early, and chilly, and even charming smugglers need their sleep.

 _Thanks, SAM,_ he says, and he means it. There’s a hot ball of _something_ stuck in his chest, and he swallows thickly around it as it threatens to burn its way up his throat. What is this feeling? It’s warm and cozy and – _content_?

 _I’m content,_ he realizes. In this moment, on Kadara Port, he is content. He’s proud of himself.

Maybe today will be a good day. Maybe he’s getting better at this whole ‘flying blind’ thing. Maybe he’ll finally get used to the job his father ‘bestowed’ upon him.

But of course, that’s when his omni-tool pings with a new message.

It’s from the Nexus; there’s a lead on the turian ark, Natanus.

Scott exhales slowly.

Time to get back to work.

xXx

**_Pathfinder, Reyes Vidal is at the docking bay, requesting entrance._ **

SAM’s voice startles him – he nearly drops the large crate of armor and weapons he’s  helping Liam move to a better corner of the cargo bay. It will give them easier access should they need it; they have no idea what they’re going to find on the Ark Natanus. They have to go to Elaaden; Scott’s not excited to see _more_ desert, with heat indexes beyond boiling. Direct exposure to sunlight will harm them.

 _Uh… o-oh? Is he?_ Scott manages to think back, thoughts temporarily scattered at the mention of _Reyes_. They haven’t quite defined this… _whatever it is_ between them, but they have established that they both like each other, _a lot_ , and maybe that’s all they need right now. He hasn’t seen him for a day and a half, because he’s been busy getting the ship ready to depart and making sure they have all their supplies and everything.

And then he realizes: _Oh. I’m leaving. We might not be back._

It depends on how everything goes, and when they get their Archon location deciphered and everything. That could take a while. They were okay to stay here for the time being, but now they have a job to do, and that might take all the way up until they have to hunt down that egotistical bastard, and that means no more Kadara.

No more Reyes.

It shouldn’t bother him, but it does. Because he caved, and kissed Reyes for all he was worth, and he’s left open and exposed for the smuggler to see, in a way he’s never been before.

And now he might not be back to Kadara – at least for a while.

It’s… distracting. Unnerving. A part of him doesn’t want to leave.

But that’s why this was a bad idea – emotional attachments can only cause problems. But he can’t just give up Reyes Vidal.

 _Let him in, SAM._ He nods a farewell to Liam, and makes his way to his quarters. _Direct him to my room._

**_Very well, Pathfinder._ **

His quarters are cool and quiet when he enters, just how he likes it. He exhales, and has just enough time to change out of his sweaty shirt before the doors to his room open again. He’s stuck with his new shirt half over his head when he hears the swoosh of the doors closing, and an amused voice humming in approval. He flushes, happy his back is to the door as he finishes pulling on his shirt.

“No need to dress on my account,” Reyes say in that smooth voice that sends shivers down Scott’s spine.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Scott replies, even as his heart races.

**_Your heartrate has increased 15.2%, Pathfinder. Should I alert Dr. T’Perro?_ **

_Oh, god. No, SAM. Don’t do that._

**_Very well,_** SAM says in this _tone_.

_You asshole. You meant to do that, didn’t you? You know damn good and well why my heartrate increased. You’re not as clueless as people think you are._

**_I can neither confirm nor deny that statement._ **

_Of course. Jerk,_ he thinks fondly.

“Are you done arguing with yourself?” Reyes asks, watching him carefully, a smirk parting his lips.

Scott scowls. “What did you need? Has something happened?”

“What?” Reyes shakes his head. “No, no, no. Nothing so sinister. I’m just here to say goodbye, I promise.”

“You’re just…?” Scott stares at him, uncomprehending. Then he realizes what Reyes is saying. “Oh…” _What a way to break up… but I mean… I guess it’s for the best._

Reyes exhales slowly, posture stiffening as his spine snaps taut, his jaw clenching. “Look, I’m no good at these things. I can admit that. But _whatever_ is between us – I just wanted to say good luck, wherever you’re going. And… stay safe.” The smile on his face looks normal enough, but Scott’s standing close enough he can see the darkening of his eyes, the lines around his mouth nearly invisible to anyone who doesn’t… what? Know him? Does Scott know him?

**_Mr. Vidal appears calm but his readings reveal he is not quite himself. He seems unstable. I believe he is concerned._ **

Scott breathes out quietly, watching Reyes carefully. The way his eyes switch from Scott to the room, then back again, quickly. The way the smile falters ever-so-slightly. He _is_ worried, but Scott can’t figure out why.

“Thanks,” he says, smiling back. “I’ll try. We’re heading to Elaaden to search for the turian ark.”

Reyes nods. “Ah. I see. Safe travels, then. Pack sunscreen.”

“I’m _so_ tired of the desert.”

“It grows on you. Like a fungus.”

Scott’s nose wrinkles. “Not the image I wanted, but thanks. I guess I have that to look forward to. Minus the fungus part.”

“You don’t want a fungus growing on you?” Reyes asks, smirking. “I’m shocked.”

“Do I _look_ like I’m into fungi?” Scott levels him with a flat stare.

“Hmm… maybe.”

“Gross.”

Reyes coughs into his hand, looking away from him. “Just work on your self-preservation instincts. Stay safe, and don’t get stuck in a sand pit and burn alive.”

“Ugh. _There’s_ a comforting image,” Scott mutters, shaking his head. “Thanks. I’ll try to not get ambushed in a sand pit. Is that… all you wanted?”

It seems strange for Reyes to enter the _Tempest_ just for that.

“That’s all.”

Scott nods. Once. Twice. Three times.

He’s still nodding when Reyes steps closer, and then their mouths meet in a soft kiss, which only deepens when Scott gets over his shock and wraps a tentative hand around the back of Reyes’ neck, guiding him forward.

When he’s had the breath stolen from him, Reyes leans back and nods once, sharply. “For luck,” he says.

“For luck,” Scott agrees quietly.

xXx

Elaaden is hot and dry, and Scott curses his armor. It has cooling circuits in it, of course, but that doesn’t mean the armor itself isn’t hot and heavy. Being in the direct sunlight is almost painful as it eats at his shields and systems. If those all fail and he’s still in the sunlight… well, SAM has warned against that, of course.

He takes Jaal and Drack with him through the desert, mostly because krogans can typically survive any temperature and any weather, and angara are adaptive. He’s the only human to suffer the heat while the rest of his crew stay in the temperature-controlled _Tempest_.

The Nomad is temperature-controlled, too, but even it has its limits. Being out in the direct sunlight for too long starts to eat away at the vehicle, and Gil is going to kill him if he brings it back destroyed. He always says Scott ruins his shiny things just to spite him.

(Maybe Scott does sometimes, because frustrated Gil on a tangent is both hilarious and _hot_ , and he might have the tiniest crush on his engineer if their lives were different and Gil was _not_ a part of his crew.)

(He still hasn’t found a way to use frustrated Gil to his advantage during poker, though.)

Driving through the sand dunes in the Nomad takes practice. Thankfully there’s a lot of sand, so Scott has plenty of time to practice. Drack whoops every time they almost topple the vehicle over or catch air from a particularly steep drop, and Jaal tactfully keeps his mouth shut on Scott’s driving capabilities. Good. Because Scott does _not_ need backseat driving when the Nomad is hard enough to steer, thank you very much.

As they’re crashing through the sand dunes, a shadow suddenly covers them. For a split second Scott thinks _oh, they have clouds, great!_ before Jaal lets out a warning, to stay away from whatever _that_ is. And _that_ is a giant worm-like thing that reminds him of a thresher maw from Tuchanka, but bigger, and is that _two_ heads? It also looks robotic in the sunlight, the metal gleaming beautifully. He’s almost glad Peebee isn’t with him right now, because she would want to study it, and he would give into his inner explorer and want to study it too, and then where would they be? Dead, most likely. They would be dead.

He stays away from _that_ , which is more difficult than it sounds. It keeps diving through the dunes, and it’s so large it makes quick work of the vast open space and hills of sand. More than once, the shadow covers the Nomad and he briefly thinks, _oh, shit, we’re gonna die crushed by a metal worm,_ before it passes and sinks back into the sand.

He gets out of that are as fast as he can.

Drack tells him to turn around – he wants to fight it.

He ignores the krogan, and keeps heading toward the signal for the turian ark.

What they find isn’t Ark Natanus.

Instead, what they find are a series of pods imbedded in the sand, all revealing negative life readings. Everyone in these pods are dead, and there are dozens of them within his line of view, and probably more scattered around. A tight knot settles in his stomach as they search the pods for the turian Pathfinder, Macen. They find no trace of him, but SAM is picking up yet another nearby signal, of more pods, and a faint life signature.

That’s good enough for him.

He leaves behind the scattered, dead pods (promising himself to come back for them later, because no one needs to be forgotten like that, in a sandy dune in the middle of nowhere) and follows the signal in the Nomad.

More pods this time, but also a firefight. Turians are fighting against kett – some are still alive. Relief ebbs through Scott even as he and his team jump out of the Nomad to lend their assistance.

Bullets whiz past his face, and he flings a biotic barrier up, just like he’s been practicing. The field covers himself and Jaal, who is shooting at them from nearby cover, while Drack charges forward in a krogan blood rage. The sound of his shout is almost familiar to Scott now, but it does still set his teeth on edge when he hears that battle cry, and makes his adrenaline skyrocket. Maybe that’s a good thing, though; adrenaline keeps him focused on even the tiniest of details, like the red dot on Jaal’s head.

He throws himself forward as he hears the telltale signs of sniper fire. For a split second he thinks, _fuck, I’m too late!_ before he crashes into Jaal and sends the angara to the ground. The barrier, flickering away but still around its point of ignition (Scott), suffers the bullet which would have pierced Jaal’s face and killed him instantly. As it is, Jaal is safe, and Scott barely feels the ricochet of the bullet bouncing off his barrier, before his barrier flickers away and dies.

 ** _In the future,_** SAM says almost firmly, **_I recommend not jumping in front of sniper fire._**

 _I had to,_ he throws back.

He can’t let anything happen to his crew. He’s the Pathfinder: if anyone dies, it’s going to be him.

**_Please cease this line of thought. It serves no purpose._ **

He doesn’t have time to think about it, because the kett are forming for another attack, and he throws himself back into the fight.

xXx

They win the fight.

The kett retreat or are killed, and Scott wipes the sweat from his brow as he turns to face the turian leading this defense.

“Scott Ryder, human Pathfinder,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand for the turian to shake.

The turian stares at it for a moment, mandibles flexing, before he clasps Scott’s hand. “Avitus Rix. Next in line to be Pathfinder.”

Scott exhales. “But you’re _not_ the Pathfinder,” he clarifies. “So Macen is still alive?”

“He’s alive,” Avitus says firmly.

“Do you know where he is? Is he here?”

Doubtful, he surmises. If he was here, SAM surely would have figured that out and told him, and he would have been leading the attack instead of Avitus.

Avitus shakes his head, looking away. “He’s not here. I don’t know where he is, or what happened, or… I had to claw my way out of my own escape pod.”

Scott winces. “That’s terrible. I’m sorry. Do you have any idea where the rest of the ark is? Or Macen?”

“I don’t know,” Avitus says, clearly disturbed by this fact.

“We found pods a ways back…” Scott says slowly, frowning. “Everyone was already dead. I’m sorry.”

Avitus takes in a deep breath and says nothing, just keeps looking at the sandy ground.

“If it helps, SAM thinks they were ejected _after_ you went through the Scourge,” he tells the turian. “Which means there’s hope, at least. The Natanus is still moving.”

Avitus’ gaze shoots toward him. “Which means Macen is, too.”

Scott smiles. “All we need to do is find the Natanus, which clearly isn’t here like we thought. But it _did_ go by here… Maybe we can pick up its trail.”

 ** _It is possible, if we know what we are looking for, and which direction,_** SAM informs him.

 _Good,_ he thinks. _A little good news would go a long way right about now._

xXx

Suvi and SAM manage to pinpoint a chemical trail for the Ark Natanus.

Scott never doubted them.

Avitus is going to meet them at the location, despite the fact he should be resting on the Nexus while Scott and the others take care of this. Then again, Scott wouldn’t be able to sit idly by if their roles were reversed, and he could help find the human ark. So, he’ll let Avitus join them if SAM agrees the turian is healthy, despite the sun exposure, and having to physically claw himself out of his cryo pod.

Avitus is going to meet them on their ship at the location, so they can all enter the ark together. During that time, Scott is going to allow SAM to do a full run-down of Avitus’ body and exhaustion levels, and if he’s not fit for duty, he will make him stand down, even if he has to use force. He doesn’t want to hurt Avitus but he can’t let him charge into a situation they know next to nothing about, if he’s not 100%.

No one would let Scott do that, so he won’t let Avitus do that.

They should arrive at the rendezvous point within the next few hours.

In the meantime, he has some free time. He’s exhausted, and he has a fresh new tan from Elaaden, and sun exhaustion to add to that. He just wants to sleep. Crawling into his bed sounds absolutely amazing right now.

It’s as he’s about to make the last few steps toward his bed that SAM informs him he has an incoming vid-call from Reyes.

A pleasant shiver slips down Scott’s spine at the mention of the smuggler.

He heads to the conference room to take the call immediately.

“Well,” Reyes says when his holographic form appears, looking over Scott with a pleased lilt to his mouth, “don’t you look simply _delicious_.”

Scott flushes. “This isn’t a secure line.”

“Oh, don’t worry – I don’t plan on holographically molesting you. Although,” he says with a quiet hum, “think of the possibilities…”

Scott clears his throat. “Did you need something, or just checking to make sure I didn’t fall into a sand pit and bake to death?”

“Why can’t it be both?” Reyes asks, blinking wide, innocent eyes at him. Scott almost snorts. Almost.

“Aw,” he says, smirking, “worried about little old me?”

“You jest, but Andromeda is a dangerous place. If you die, who am I going to drink alcohol on rooftops with?”

Scott rolls his eyes, hiding a laugh behind a quick cough, clearing his throat. “What do you need, Reyes?”

“Well… a certain someone is throwing this extravagant party,” Reyes says, smirking at him, “and I thought ‘who better to bring along, than a certain sexy man I know’, and here we are, Sexy.”

“Oh, god. Don’t call me that,” Scott says, flushing deeply. Thankfully the holograms can’t pick up that much detail, so Reyes is none the wiser. He thinks.

“But it’s the truth,” Reyes tells him, winking at him. “Would you have me lie?”

Scott swallows thickly. “Who’s throwing this party?”

“Why, Sloane Kelly, of course.”

“I see a little snag in your plan.”

“My two left feet are not a problem,” Reyes informs him. “I can dance fine if you squint and consume enough alcohol.

Scott snorts out a shocked laugh. “Uh – no. But uh, good to know. If we ever dance.”

“Oh, we will. At the party.”

“About that snag? Sloane _hates_ me. She’ll never invite me to her party.”

_And why would I even go?_

“Ah, but she doesn’t hate _me_ , and I am on the list,” Reyes tells him smoothly. “Along with a ‘plus one’. Would you like to be my plus one, Scott Ryder?”

“This is a terrible idea.”

“And?”

He breathes out sharply. “I’m in.”

xXx

The Ark Natanus looks dark and half-destroyed, systems failing. Scott doesn’t have high hopes for the trip onto it, but he doesn’t let it show in front of Avitus.

Avitus Rix has a one-track mind: find Macen.

He’s still alive, he says firmly, because SAM hasn’t switched to him yet.

Scott hopes he’s right, even as he remembers his father transferring SAM into his head instead of Cora’s, who was next in line. Maybe Macen did that, too, though it seems like Avitus and Macen are close. Cora and Alec Ryder seemed close, too, up until his father shoved that AI into his head instead of letting it transfer to Cora.

He’s not sure what to believe anymore.

He keeps these thoughts to himself, of course; Avitus is already on edge.

They make their way through the ship, slowly and carefully due to the low power, and come across audio logs. Macen’s last words.

 _He’s dead,_ Scott thinks as he listens to Macen search for ‘Avi’s pod’. Avi, not Avitus. These two were closer than Scott thought.

“He’s alive,” Macen says, lifting his chin defiantly to glare down at Scott. “He’s _alive_ , do you hear me?”

“Okay,” Scott says, nodding. “Sure. Let’s find him, then.”

 ** _The likelihood of the turian Pathfinder still being alive is 3.1%,_** SAM informs him.

_Yeah. I know._

They make their way to SAM node, finally. The SAM aboard this ship seems… disturbed. Broken. Repeating things randomly, stuttering, stopping… It is broken, and a piece of Scott aches at the sight, picturing _his_ SAM that way.

With his SAM’s help, they fix the AI enough, even temporarily, to allow it to speak clearly and tell them what happened.

It’s just as Scott feared.

 _Macen is dead._ In the middle of transferring to Avitus, the system was interrupted, which is what broke this SAM so much. The transfer was never completed. It needs to be fixed, needs to complete itself.

Macen is dead.

Avitus is taking it quite hard – but then Scott expects nothing less. He hasn’t asked outright what their relationship was like, but he knows it went deeper than friendship. He thinks of himself feeling this way, if Reyes were Macen. His brain stops – the thought is ridiculous. Reyes is fine on Kadara, waiting for him to return for a party, and Alec Ryder was the Pathfinder who died tragically on Habitat 7. Thinking of things any differently is foolish.

Still, though – what a way to find out your significant other perished tragically while you slept. Scott can only imagine how Avitus feels.

Avitus doesn’t want to be Pathfinder. He signed up for second-in-line to help Macen, and never actually thought he’d have to become Pathfinder, because something happened to the other turian. Scott knows how he feels, there – he never expected he’d become Pathfinder, either. Life enjoys its weird turns.

“You’ll do fine,” he tells Macen quietly, with a hand on the turian’s shoulder. “You think I expected to be Pathfinder? Hell no. You think I wanted to be Pathfinder? _Hell no_. But here I am, and if I can do it, so can you.”

It’s not the best pep talk, but then he’s never been good at those. Sara. Sara’s good at those, at building people up, but he’s not.

“You can do this,” he says.

Avitus takes in a deep breath, mandibles flexing. “Okay.”

 ** _“Initiating transfer,”_** SAM says, either this ship’s or his own, he’s not quite sure.

And Avitus Rix becomes the turian Pathfinder.

xXx

Scott takes a long hot shower and tries to clear his mind of Macen and Avitus, and the Ark Natanus. Many turians were saved, but many still are missing. Time is of the essence; if they were just ejected from the ship, in a last ditch effort to keep the ship moving, then there’s a chance they’re still alive in their pods. There’s a chance some clawed their way out like Avitus. The chance is slim, but a chance is a chance. Avitus is scanning planets on his way back to the Nexus to officially become Pathfinder and speak with Director Tann about search parties. Scott wishes him luck.

He never gets anywhere with Tann, himself.

He sighs and steps out of the shower, drying himself off in front of the large wall mirror which is foggy with steam.

Macen and Avitus were together, despite their roles in the Initiative. Despite the fact Macen was a Pathfinder and Avitus his second. Despite all their responsibilities, they made it work. It ended tragically… but if the Scourge hadn’t happened… they made it work.

Maybe he can do this after all. Maybe it’s okay to have emotional entanglements.

Maybe he and Reyes can be… _something_.

Warmth floods through him.

Before he knows he’s moving, he’s sending a message to the smuggler.

_Hey, Reyes_

_Can’t wait for the party. I’m on my way back now. You wouldn’t believe the day I had._

_\--Scott Ryder_


	11. You Got Me Where You Want Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Reyes become... more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took forever to write. Honestly. It's like nothing but fluff. Hope that's okay.
> 
> There's no party in this chapter. Next chapter, I promise. 
> 
> I finally finished the game with 92% completion :D Huzzah! 
> 
> I'm not sure how long this story is going to be, or what all it's going to cover. It was just supposed to cover them getting together, and I could have separate stories later to tell the rest, but... we'll see. I might have this go until either just after the High Noon thing, or after the whole 'Hunting the Archon' thing. We'll see. 
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and everything, you guys! You guys are awesome and keep me going. This chapter is for you.

_ Chapter Eleven: You Got Me Where You Want Me _

 

Scott’s always had a love-hate relationship with space. It’s beautiful, dark and dangerous; it calls to him in a way little else has, because there’s always something new to explore, something new to discover, be it a new plant on a new planet, or strange animals or even the Scourge, all that dark energy in a gnarled mess of beauty and destruction.

He also dislikes space for similar reasons. It’s dark, and dangerous, and half the time he has no idea what he’s doing. He feels small in space; insignificant, like he doesn’t matter, but maybe that’s the whole point of something so big and vast. He’ll never understand it, never come close to discovering all it secrets, not in his lifetime and not in a thousand – but maybe that’s the whole damn point: _keep looking_.

He likes the large windows in his quarters, that make up the outside wall. He can watch space fly past him as they make their way to Kadara. As his thoughts travel to the toxic planet, he can’t help but wonder if Reyes has a similar relationship with space. If they’re two lost souls destined to collide with either other in the vastness of something they’ll never understand.

It’s breathtaking, in a way.

It’s part of why he joined the Alliance in the first place – to see the unknown, and to keep an eye on his sister, even if Sara is a force of nature herself and can definitely take care of herself. Maybe he just wasn’t ready to admit she would be fine on her own, because up until that point they’d always done everything together – they went to the same school, share the same classes, teachers, friends (or lack thereof in Scott’s case) and double dated occasionally. They were always together.

Until the Alliance. In trying to stay by his sister’s side, and get his own curiosity sated, he found himself on a path he didn’t particularly like. At first he was with Sara, in research, and dig sites. It was great. Then he was reassigned because there was a conflict of interest if he and his twin were on the same team, and Alec Ryder saw him as a soldier, not a researcher. Not a scientist and explorer like everyone else in their family.

In Scott’s head, his father’s ambitions for him are just another warning that he’s the black sheep of the family. The only one who is different. The oddball no one cares about. The one stuck with this job and life Alec wanted to give to Sara.

It’s easy for his thoughts to become melancholy, even depressed. He sucks in a slow breath, rolls his shoulders, and focuses on the stars so far away instead of anything inside of his head. Sometimes when he’s alone like this, looking out into space – he can finally just _breathe_ , and relax, and he understands how Peebee felt in the escape pod with zero gravity.

 ** _“Pathfinder,”_** SAM says from his terminal, **_“you have new email at your terminal.”_**

“Thanks, SAM,” Scott says with a heavy sigh, as he drags his fingers through his hair. It’s getting long; it’s been months since he had a haircut. If he’s being honest with himself, it’s actually been over 600 years since his last hair cut. Mom would be so disappointed that he’s all scruffy looking, with his hair inching down toward his ears, and a shadow of scruff on his face. Unruly offspring, she’d call him fondly, and he’d smile back, and _fuck_ , he really misses his mom in that moment.

He makes his way toward his computer, and looks over his emails. He’s archived a lot of them out of mere sentimentality or pack-rat behavior – he’ll never tell. He sits in the comfortable rolling chair and clicks on his newest email.

_To: Scott Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Subject: Re: Can’t Wait_

_I’m excited too. It’ll be fun, you’ll see. Would I ever steer you wrong? ;)_

_Anyway, I would like to hear all about your day. Did you locate the turian ark?_

_~Reyes Vidal_

Scott smiles. He didn’t take Reyes for the smiley guy, but that’s great because back in the Milky Way Scott _loved_ harassing his sister with smileys. Not that Sara didn’t give it right back. It started a smiley war, and no one won because Mom confiscated their phones for a month for ‘shenanigans’.

_Fuck, I miss you, Mom._

Things were so much easier with Ellen Ryder around. Even if Alec Ryder couldn’t be bothered to be torn away from his work long enough to notice his kids growing up without him, at least they always, _always_ , had their mother. Ellen Ryder, even though she was sick almost their whole lives, did absolutely everything she could to be both parents to the kids, and to be the absolute best mother she could be.

Then her sickness finally caught up with her, and in the end… nothing could save her. Death didn’t care, in the end, how great of a mother she was, or the two kids she would be leaving behind, or the husband buried in his work.

He types out a quick response to Reyes.

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Scott Ryder_

_Subject: Re: Re: Can’t Wait_

_We found the Ark Natanus. I’ll tell you about it when we get to Kadara. How are things there? Keeping out of trouble?_

He sends the message before he can overthink everything and back out of the conversation. He’s bad about that, sometimes; his mind just overthinks things, and it never seems good enough. He can feel SAM moving in the back of his mind, retreating, attempting to give Scott some privacy, or the facsimile of one.

He terminal ‘pings’ quietly, revealing a new email.

Of course it’s from Reyes.

The smuggler keeps odd hours, Scott thinks with a faint smile, as he opens the message.

_Things are fine here. Quiet, for the time being. I do have a job I was wondering if you could help me with, after the party. If not, that is fine, I can handle it on my own._

Scott sighs, dragging a hand across his face. Of course he’s going to say yes; does Reyes even need to ask?

 _I’ll help,_ he sends the smuggler. _What’s this job?_

As he’s waiting for Reyes’ response, he gets to his feet and stretches. His body is exhausted but his mind is awake, as it is most days and nights. Sleep eludes him still, even if he’s so sore and tired he can barely move without wincing. Hopefully he’ll feel better by the time he arrives on Kadara.

He has over a day before they make it back to the exile planet. That should be plenty of time for his body to heal, with SAM’s help. He could go to Lexi, but then she’d be concerned about all of his ‘bad habits’, which really aren’t that bad. So he can’t sleep – big deal. Lots of people have trouble sleeping.

Scott’s always had trouble sleeping. Sara always got to sleep right away, and when they shared a room, it always irked him how quickly she slipped into a deep slumber. When he finally _did_ manage to get to sleep, he’d wake every fifteen to thirty minutes. This would continue all night, and he’d always wake more tired than when he went to bed. Ellen wanted to put him on medication to help regulate his sleeping pattern, but Alec steadfastly refused. He said no child of his would need to rely on drugs for anything.

A little hypocritical of him, come to think of it. Ellen always had to take medicine, but he never snapped at her for it. Yet the minute Scott reached for sleeping medication so he could finally – _finally_ – get some real sleep and not wake exhausted, his father smacked him so hard he saw stars for a moment, and had a headache all day. Alec apologized for the reaction, but he stood by the fact _Scott_ was in the wrong because he didn’t need pills to sleep. Alec didn’t need, or want, an addict in the family, he said. They had too much at stake to ruin their name.

 _Yeah, a lot of good that did, huh?_ Scott thinks almost bitterly, remembering how his father’s work ruined their family name and got them all kicked out of the Alliance. Scott might have hated part of his job, but it was a living, and it was _his_. He got there on _his_ merit, _his_ hard work, and his father’s mistakes took it all away.

He can’t really call SAM a mistake, though. Just a missed opportunity for the Alliance. SAM is great, and he can’t imagine _not_ having him in his head now. Perhaps that should worry him. It doesn’t.

His computer pings again.

Reyes has replied.

_I’ll tell you when you get here. When will that be, again?_

Scott smirks to himself.

_We should be arriving in a day or so. I’ll let you know when we’re in orbit. See you then._

He sends the message and signs off the computer, instead turning away from his desk to yawn loudly. He’s tired, but sleep is always so elusive.

He doesn’t like sedatives. They give him headaches and he hates having to rely on them for sleep. They’re only a temporary solution anyway. Lexi wants him to face the core problem: his anxiety, his stress. But he can’t focus on that, because if he focuses on that, it’ll be all he can see, and even SAM won’t be able to stop that panic attack.

He doesn’t have time to focus on that right now. Later, after the Archon is dealt with, and they’ve found Meridian. Then, he can take a brief moment to think about everything he’s shoving to the back of his mind. By this point, it’s a lot of things pushed back there. They’re all going to come spiraling out.

 ** _Avoidance will not help,_** SAM tells him, stirring in his mind briefly.

He sighs, shoulders slouching. “I know, SAM. But I can’t focus on it right now.”

**_Reyes Vidal seems to help._ **

A smile slips across his face before he can stop the reaction. _Yeah, I guess. Maybe._

**_I will keep this in mind._ **

_What are you planning?_ he asks, curious.

SAM keeps quiet.

Scott snorts in the silence of his quarters. _Shifty AI. Don’t be snitching on me again._

He looks across the room at his bed. It’s large and comfortable, but it won’t help him sleep. Nevertheless, he walks toward it, strips to his underclothes, and slowly climbs on it.

He snuggles under the covers, and releases a quiet exhale as the room goes dark, SAM manipulating the ship to help him get some sleep.

xXx

Kadara is the same as it always is, but today it looks a little brighter. Scott is smiling before he steps off the ship, but his smile grows when he sees Reyes waiting for him. The smuggler smirks at him, lifting his eyebrows. Scott makes his way toward the smuggler, grinning all the way. By the time he reaches him, his face is aching, but it’s a good ache he wishes he could have all the time.

“Hey, you,” he says, stopping in front of the smuggler.

Reyes looks him up and down, grinning. “Hello yourself. You look – good.”

“I feel good,” Scott says with a shrug. “How’s it been on Kadara?”

“Same old same old,” Reyes tells him, turning to lead the way through the port. Scott follows after him. “I expect a full-length story about finding the Ark Natanus, but first, I say we go to Tartarus and celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?” Scott asks, frowning somewhat, momentarily confused.

“Why, your success as Pathfinder, of course!”

Scott missteps briefly, before he quickly catches himself, staring at Reyes who quirks a brow at him. “Success?” he asks, nose wrinkling slightly.

“You have two outposts, you fixed the vault here, you helped stop the Roekaar here, and you found the Ark Natanus! Any of those are reason enough to celebrate.”

Hearing all of this leaves him speechless for a second. “I… don’t know what to say. It wasn’t just me, though. My team-”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure it was all a team effort,” Reyes says, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, guiding him through the port and past market salesmen, “but we’re focusing on _you_ today. They’ll get their party later.”

“Party?” It’s the only word he can wrap his head around at the moment.

Reyes’ fingers tighten on his shoulder, his arm warm and heavy around the back of his neck and shoulders. He pulls Scott a little closer, speaking quietly in his ear, “A private party just for you.” Teeth nip lightly at his earlobe, leaving shivers crawling down his spine. “Clear your schedule for tonight.” His teeth graze the shell, sending more shivers through his body. “You’re _mine_.”

Scott exhales slowly. _SAM, clear my-_

 ** _Already on it, Pathfinder._** A brief pause. **_Enjoy yourself._**

“SAM’s taking care of it,” he tells Reyes.

“So you’re mine tonight?” The warm air tickles his ear.

“I’m yours.”

He can feel Reyes’ grin against his ear. “Good.” His head leans lower, and there’s teeth at his neck, nipping lightly.

“Where are… we going?” Scott asks, clearing his throat as he struggles to stay coherent. Reyes is doing terrible things to his rational side. “This doesn’t look like the way to Tartarus.”

“Considering we left the elevator a while ago – no, no it’s not,” Reyes agrees, still guiding him with an arm around his shoulders, though his mouth is away from his vulnerable flesh.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to pick up something special for the occasion.”

“O-Oh? What’s that?”

He hates the tremor in his voice, but he’s too shocked to hide it, or put on a brave face. He’s not worried about Reyes has planned – but the fact Reyes has _anything_ planned, for _him_ of all people, just throws him off-balance and he has no idea what to do or say.

“As much as I love Tartarus, it doesn’t have the good stuff.”

“Good stuff?”

Reyes winks at him, smirking. “You’ll see.”

“What do you – _Reyes_ ,” Scott hisses when he’s pushed through an opening he didn’t even realize was there. There’s darkness, but Reyes is still warm against him, even though his arm has vanished from around his shoulders. A second later a light switches on, and Reyes lowers his hand from the wall, smirking at him.

“You startle easily for a space hero,” the smuggler tells him. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

He scowls. “Where are we?” he spins around, looking around the room. There’s nothing here but boxes and crates, and there’s the distinctive smell of _dusty_ in the air. His nose wrinkles. The room is small and hot; already sweat is dotting his brow. “What’s all this?”

“Sloane likes to keep her good stuff in locations that don’t look worth looting,” Reyes explains, shrugging off his jacket to put it down on a crate. He pats it once, twice, smirking at Scott. “Have a seat. I’ll do everything.”

“What are you doing?” Scott asks, even as he sits atop Reyes’ jacket.

“Just sit there and relax.”

Reyes steps away from him and around a tower of boxes. Scott loses sight of him, and sighs as he looks around the rest of the room. The door is closed, but apparently wasn’t locked before they entered… or Reyes scouted this place earlier and unlocked it prior to Scott landing.

He figures the latter makes more sense. Reyes is nothing if not smooth; of course he has everything planned and all figured out. Scott can just sit back and relax – even as he worries what will happen if Sloane catches them here. He’ll just keep an eye on the door while Reyes does… whatever it is he’s doing.

“Ah hah!” Reyes’ triumphant shout leaves his head snapping over toward the tower of crates. The smuggler comes walking around it, wearing a grin, and carrying a bottle of something. A green bottle with a cork.

“What’s that?” Scott asks, getting to his feet.

“600 year old wine,” Reyes says. “One of the only few bottles in Andromeda. She has others, too, but they’re in a more… secure location. This will do for today.”

Scott eyes the bottle. “600 years old, huh?”

“Of course.” Reyes stops only when he’s right in front of Scott. He leans in, lips just barely brushing Scott’s. “Only the best for my space hero.”

A shiver runs down his spine again, but in all the right ways. It’s warm in this tiny room.

Reyes leans in for a quick kiss, and reaches behind Scott to pick up his jacket.

“Let’s go, hero.”

xXx

Tartarus is full of loud music and a smoky atmosphere, as usual. They make their way to Reyes’ back room and the door closes behind them, cutting off some of the music. The bass still drums through in the beats vibrating the floor, but no longer can Scott hear lyrics. He eyes the set-up Reyes has waiting. Actual wine glasses, and two plates of food which actually look rather delicious, and is that pie?

“What’s the occasion?” he asks, turning to look at Reyes, who puts the 600 year old bottle of wine down on the table, as the centerpiece.

The smuggler smirks at him. “We’re celebrating your success, remember?”

“Yeah, but – dinner?” Scott stares at the food even as Reyes gestures for him to sit down.

“I can’t let my sexy space hero go hungry, can I?”

His cheeks burn even as he bites the insides of them to keep from smiling. He sits, and Reyes sits across from him and reaches for the wine bottle. He pours some into both of their glasses, and puts it back down in the center of the table, smiling at Scott.

Scott cuts into the meat and takes a bite. It’s surprisingly good, and flavorful. He doesn’t ask what it is; he’s not sure he wants to know. For now he’ll just enjoy it.

“How is it?” Reyes asks. “Cooking isn’t my strong suit.”

“It’s great,” Scott tells him, quirking a brow. “You cooked? For me? I’m flattered.”

“I only cook for people I care about,” Reyes says, holding his gaze, and there’s heat in Scott’s cheeks again.

“It’s nice to be cared about,” Scott says, his mouth moving on its own as his brain struggles to work correctly, but this whole situation has him flustered and thrown off-guard. He swallows thickly, as the smuggler continues to hold his gaze.

“I’m curious where this goes, you and I,” the smuggler tells him, before clearing his throat. “This all good for fun and games, but something more substantial would not be remiss, either.”

“I…” He has no idea, to be honest. He’s just winging it as he goes because he doesn’t have time for anything _substantial_ , but telling Reyes this is just fun for him is… wrong. It’s more than that. _He’s_ more than that. He matters to Scott, and this isn’t just a fun fling. He’s not sure how he let things escalate this far, but there’s no going back now. “I care about you,” he says quietly, looking away from the trap that is Reyes’ gaze. “This isn’t just fun and games to me.”

“That’s good to hear,” Reyes says, almost sounding _relieved_. “Just so we’re clear: You’re mine.”

A shiver runs down his spine. “I’m yours.”

“That’s my guy.”

xXx

“I’m bad at this,” Reyes says sometime later, when they’re curled together on Reyes’ bed. Scott is comfortable with his head laying on the smuggler’s shoulder, and he has no intention of moving. His body is sore and tired but in all the best ways, and he hasn’t been this relaxed in a long time.

“Could have fooled me,” he murmurs in response to Reyes’ words.

Reyes’ fingers trace patterns of nothingness along the edge of his arm, half-wrapped around him, keeping him close. “I’m not good at… _more_.”

“You’re doing fine,” Scott informs him.

“I excel at the _beginnings_ ,” Reyes tells him quietly, in the darkness of the room, but his fingers hesitate in their traced patterns. “I’m good at the start, but later… I always fuck up when it’s something this serious. I fuck up and everyone walks away.”

“Well,” Scott says, half-asleep and too tired to even open his eyes as he snuggles a little more into the man next to him, “I doubt you could ever fuck up enough I’d just walk away.”

Reyes’ arm tightens around him, causing Scott to awaken a little more as he’s shifted, as Reyes’ grip becomes a little too tight.

“You say that now,” the smuggler says, voice tense. “But there are things about me you don’t know.”

“I know enough,” he breathes, opening his eyes, and looking up toward Reyes’ face but the smuggler is steadfastly ignoring him, looking up at the ceiling with intense focus, despite the darkness of the room.

Scott sighs, and shoves an arm under him, moving to sit up. Reyes’ arm tightens briefly, before he releases him and lets him move. Scott sits and presses a hand to Reyes’ cheek, tilting his head toward him until their eyes meet in the dim lighting.

He smiles. “Reyes,” he says, leaning down to let his mouth hover just mere centimeters above Reyes’, listening to the slight catch in Reyes’ breath, “I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”

He’s not going to just abandon Reyes, even if he absolutely _should_ because there’s no way this can end well. He’s the Pathfinder, Reyes is an exiled smuggler; they shouldn’t be doing this. But it feels so _right_ and he can’t ignore it any longer. For once, he just wants something for himself – he wants Reyes, and he’s not going to deny it anymore.

This isn’t a fling. He’s not sure what it is, if they require labels or anything, but Reyes is stuck with him until the smuggler says otherwise.

“What if I don’t want you to?” Reyes asks, voice this quiet, fragile thing.

Scott kisses him softly. “Then I’ll be here.”

“What if you discover something about me you don’t like?”

“You’re stuck with me,” he tells the smuggler, kissing him again, and again after that.

Reyes’ hand cups the back of his neck, pulling him closer, into a deeper kiss.

xXx

Scott wakes early the next morning, but for once, not from a nightmare or dream. He wakes feeling more refreshed than he has in a long time, feeling _relaxed_ , with sunlight trickling through the closed blinds. The room smells heavily of lingering sex and Reyes. Speaking of the smuggler, he’s currently sleeping against Scott with his arm flung over Scott’s middle, holding him close even as he snores softly, face relaxed in sleep. Scott watches him for a moment, before he smiles and plants a soft kiss on the tip of Reyes’ nose, and carefully slides out from under Reyes’ hold. Reyes mumbles in his sleep, fingers briefly flexing, reaching for something missing, but then the movement stops and Reyes’ features go slack once more.

Scott makes his away quietly out of the room, and toward the bathroom. After relieving himself, he looks at himself in the mirror as he’s washing his hands. There’s a considerable hickey on the left side of his neck, and he flushes at the sight of it. There’s no covering _that_ up; it’s too high on his neck for his shirt to cover it. Maybe his armor would, but if he starts wearing his armor on his ship everyone is going to suspect the worst, and ask too many questions. They’ll ask questions seeing _this_ , but a completely different set of questions.

_Damn you, Reyes._

He never said no marks, though. He never thought to say it. Or maybe a part of him _wanted_ to be marked… maybe a part of him wants to _belong_ …

He swallows, and makes his way out of the bathroom.

Reyes’ place is rather small, but as he said before, it’s homey. He enters the kitchen and starts making some coffee, happy there are coffee beans here. It’s a bit of a rare thing to find here in the badlands. The Nexus has some, but those on Kadara have to make due with what they can find. He’s not going to ask where Reyes got coffee beans; he doesn’t care, so long as there’s precious coffee.

For once, though, he doesn’t _need_ coffee.

He just wants it.

 ** _You are refreshed,_** SAM says as he starts the coffee maker.

 _Look who’s back,_ Scott replies, as SAM disappeared all night, remaining silent the whole time. He barely felt him in his mind at all. It was weird, but also… welcome. He doesn’t mind sharing a body with SAM, but there are certain activities he would to keep for himself. _And yeah… I guess I am refreshed._

**_You are happier._ **

_… I guess I am._

He is happier. He’s smiling, and he can’t stop.

If only it could always be like this. Just him and Reyes in this little house of Reyes’, without worries about the Nexus or Andromeda or arks or the Archon or-

Just without worries.

The coffee is almost ready when warm arms encircle him from behind, and a mouth plants solidly against his neck, sucking and kissing and nipping. He shivers at the sudden sensation, but leans comfortably into the warm body pressed flush against his back.

“I hope it’s okay I’m making coffee,” he says. “I’ll get you replacement beans.”

“How dare you make coffee for me,” Reyes mutters against his neck. “That is a punishable offense, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh? How are you gonna punish me, then?”

The arms tighten around him, pulling him closer, and he can feel the firm hardness of Reyes’ cock despite both layers of pants. His heart races, pulse stuttering. “I could think of a few ways. But I suppose I’ll let it slide just this once.” Teeth bite at his neck, sharply. “As much as I would love to have a repeat of last night, I’m sure your crew is looking for you.”

Scott sighs. “I’m sure SAM told them I’m fine.”

“Yes, fine with the evil – but devilishly handsome – smuggler.”

“I don’t know about that whole ‘evil’ bit.”

“But I _am_ devilishly handsome?”

He swallows. “Uh – I mean…”

Reyes’ laugh is a quiet rush of warm breath against his exposed, and very sensitive, neck. “Don’t worry – I won’t tell anyone I charmed you so well. You’re quite sexy yourself, space hero.”

“You gonna keep calling me that?”

“Would you prefer something else?” Reyes asks, nipping lightly at his neck again, at the too-sensitive skin. “Darling. Dear. _Sweetheart_.”

He shivers. “Uh – how about Scott?”

“Everyone calls you Scott, and I refuse to be lumped in with _everyone_.” A sweet kiss on tender skin. “You’re my space hero.”

Scott doesn’t argue – he can’t think clearly right now. Instead he twists enough that Reyes allows him to turn so they’re facing each other, and then their mouths are connected and his fingers are lost somewhere in Reyes’ hair.

The coffee gives them enough energy for round four.

xXx

“Why pick the nickname Shena?” Scott asks after their shower. He’s sore and tired but he hasn’t felt more relaxed and alive in such a long time, just sitting with Reyes on the couch in his living room. It’s not as comfortable as Liam’s tattered couch, but it’s a close second, here with Reyes.

The movie playing on the vidscreen across the room is an old one Scott’s seen several times, but it’s a classic and he enjoys it, especially with the company.

“I don’t know,” Reyes says. “It seemed… ironic at the time.”

“Oh?”

“In Angaran, it means mouth.”

“And you have a smart mouth,” Scott says, nodding. “It fits.”

“I thought so. But it’s not the best name.”

“Why not just go by Reyes?”

“Because not everyone needs to know who I am,” the smuggler answers. “Shena seemed… necessary, at the time. I didn’t know my angaran contacts very well, and they didn’t need to know me. So just… Shena.”

“Any other codenames I should know about?” Scott asks, yawning.

Reyes tenses next to him. Scott lifts his head from Reyes’ shoulder, frowning at him.

“None you need to worry about,” he finally says, voice quiet and tense.

“Reyes?”

“I have… things I haven’t told you, yet. Things you might not like.”

Scott pushes off Reyes’ shoulder so they’re at the same height. Reyes keeps his gaze focused on the vidscreen instead of Scott, expression serious. “Do you plan on double crossing me or anyone on my team?”

“What? No,” Reyes says, scowling.

“Do you plan on killing any of us?”

“No.”

Scott shrugs. “Then nothing is going to send me running. Whenever you’re ready to tell me… you can.”

Reyes looks at him then, and his eyes are shining. “You mean that, truly?”

“I mean that.”

“When did I get so lucky as to find you?”

No one has ever said they were ‘lucky’ to have him before. Scott’s heart thumps loudly in his chest. “Who say’s you’re the lucky one?” he asks, and then mentally berates himself. _Mouth, you’re no longer allowed to make decisions. You wait for me to tell you what to say, got it?_

Reyes smiles, and it’s soft and sincere, and the smuggler leans toward him.

Their mouths meet in the sweetest of kisses.

xXx

Scott eventually has to return to the _Tempest_ , sadly. But he can’t just disappear like that for so long; it was almost two whole days he was gone, and it would have been longer if Reyes hadn’t told him to check in with his crew to let them know the ‘big bad smuggler didn’t dispose of him’.

He tried to argue with him and tell him none of his crew would think that, and he wasn’t evil, but Reyes just smiled and sent him on his way.

The party at Sloane’s is in three days. Reyes says he has some business to take care of before then, but he’ll see Scott at the party, and he’s looking forward to it. Scott is, too. He hasn’t been this excited about a party in a long time. Maybe not since his sixteenth birthday.

He walks onto the _Tempest_ with a skip in his step and tries to ignore the probing looks he receives from everyone he passes.

He’s happy, and content, and he just wants this feeling to stay.


	12. Got So Much to Lose (Got so Much to Prove)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you care about someone, they're suddenly something you can lose. Reyes definitely isn't used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, quick update, I know. Gasp! I started writing and couldn't stop even though I had to work. I wrote on my lunch break and when I got home. I have a lot of ideas for these two and I just don't know what to do with them all, lol. I don't know where I want this story to end; if it's going to span the whole game or just go up to a certain point. Ugh. We'll see, I guess. 
> 
> This chapter's title is from "Trouble" by Cage the Elephants. 
> 
> There's so much fluff in the past two chapters. Yikes. Sorry about that. I'm an angst person myself, but, well... I guess the boys wanted fluff. Because there's a lot of it. 
> 
> Hope that's okay :)
> 
> Comments are love and keep me updating quickly :D

_ Chapter Twelve: Got So Much to Lose (Got So Much to Prove) _

 

_What am I doing?_

No amount of planning could ever prepare Reyes Vidal for the amazing temptation that was Scott Ryder. Despite the many reasons he knows this can never work between them, he still _wants_ it. He still goes for it, he still tries. Even if it will inevitably blow up in his face because they are two very different people – he _tries_.

He wants to be the man Scott thinks he is. He wants to be worthy of Scott’s affection.

But as long as he’s the Charlatan, as long as he’s planning to take over Kadara Port and get rid of Sloane Kelly… he’ll never be worthy, because words unsaid stand between them, and he can’t find the strength to say them.

He tried – he wanted to tell Scott that perfect night together, but Reyes is a coward. He’ll dive into a fight whenever one occurs, but the thought of talking about his feelings, of chasing Scott away… he can’t do it. At least, not yet.

He can’t discuss this whole Charlatan business while Sloane stands between them. He’ll tell Scott everything once he’s gotten rid of Sloane. He has a discrete sniper, and the location ready. He just needs to persuade Sloane to come alone to the meeting location, to do this one against one. Once he has Kadara Port, he will tell Scott everything, and if Scott wants to leave… well, all Reyes wanted was Kadara Port. So he’ll be okay.

 _Keep telling yourself these lies,_ a part of him whispers. _Maybe one day you’ll believe it._

He cares about Scott Ryder – a lot. More than is wise. More than he should. He knows better, dammit, but Scott is so sincere in his affection and a part of Reyes aches for that, for an honest connection with someone. He wants this, between them.

Scott said this isn’t just fun and games with him – he wants more, too.

So is that what this is, then? More? A relationship?

Reyes has never been good at relationships. Not that he had role models from which to learn from, of course; he never knew his parents. He was an orphan on Earth, grew up in a life of crime, and every attempt at bettering himself ended in disaster. Every attempt at trusting someone, at giving his heart to someone – they just broke it in the end. His old ways always caught up with him, a life of crime, one last job – something. It always, _always_ , caught up with him and the people who supposedly cared about him walked away, leaving him with the broken pieces to attempt to sweep back into some sort of functioning shape.

He's never been good at relationships.

Beginnings, he’s good at, like he told Scott. He can woo people, turn the charm up a few notches, get them to notice him, relieve stress with him – but that’s it. The beginnings are easy because no one tells all their secrets; everyone is lying in some small way, to make a good impression. He’s good at lying.

But then later, they expect open honesty, and he falters _every single fucking time_.

Scott says he’ll be here whenever Reyes wants to tell him whatever he’s hiding – but if that’s not true? What if he gets tired of waiting? What if Reyes is never ready to tell him, and Scott leaves? What if the Pathfinder doesn’t like what he hears, and walks away like everyone else?

This is why attachments are bad. This is why he never should have let it get this far.

But there’s just something about Scott… something Reyes can’t get enough of, and he _wants_ it, wants _him_ , and even if this whole thing will blow up in his face – at least he’ll have this.

He’ll have these moments they shared together, stolen kisses in the dark, quiet conversations snuggled together, someone fixing coffee before he wakes…

_Someone I could have come home to._

That’s it, he realizes. That’s what he wants.

He came to Andromeda to be someone – but he never thought being someone to just one person would ever be enough. He wanted a name for himself, people at his command, a name everyone knew. Someone worthy of appreciation, because he was tired of being under everyone’s boots.

He came here to be someone… but being just Reyes Vidal to someone like Scott Ryder… to come home to him at the end of day… the life he never had himself but always secretly wanted…

The thought is painful, because it is never going to happen. Even if Scott doesn’t leave – Reyes will have Kadara Port, and once he has it, he can’t just give it up. He can’t just stop being the Charlatan. So he’ll have to stay here, on Kadara, running things – and Scott will be out there, being the Pathfinder. They won’t ever really be together.

But those stolen moments…

Even if it’s only a taste of what he really wants… it’s more than enough because it’s more than he’s ever had before. It’s more than he’s ever been ready to accept before.

He’ll be someone, in this galaxy. He’ll be the Charlatan in charge of Kadara Port, and lover to the Pathfinder. He’ll finally be someone.

He just needs to get rid of Sloane, and take Kadara Port, and everything will be fine.

“Wow, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

Reyes looks up from the pad in his hand, and looks at Keema across the table. The angara has her face stuffed with food, and she’s giving him _the look_. He scowls. “I don’t know what you mean.”

She swallows. “You know exactly what I mean. You and lover-boy. Tall, dark and handsome. Your Pathfinder fuckbuddy.” Keema’s mouth twists strangely around the word. The angara don’t seem to have a word for that, specifically, but she quickly adopted human phrases.

He bristles, unable to stop himself. “Don’t call him that.”

“Ah hah!” Keema says, grinning. “I knew you cared about him. You’ve never objected to me calling anyone your fuckbuddy before. So, when do I get to meet him?”

Reyes sighs heavily. “He’s coming to Sloane’s party with me. You’ll meet him then.”

“Oh, exciting. So how much does he know? About you, I mean. You _have_ told him, haven’t you?”

He looks back down at his pad.

“Are you _serious_? Reyes, you like this guy. You need to tell him.”

“I will,” Reyes says quietly. “As soon as the job’s done.”

“The longer you keep this from him, the more it’s going to hurt both of you when he finally finds out,” Keema says, almost sadly.

“I _know_.”

Scott will think Reyes was lying to him the whole time, or, worse, that he was _using_ the Pathfinder to further his placement here on Kadara. And that’s not true, at all. If he needed Scott’s help with Sloane, then he doesn’t deserve to sit atop Kadara Port in the first place. He won’t use the Pathfinder like that – he won’t use _Scott_. Everything he’s told Scott has been true – he hasn’t lied.

 _It’s still a lie of omission,_ his mind says. _And you know it, too._

He does know it. He’s kept the truth from Scott, even if he hasn’t outright lied.

He will tell him, though.

Just as soon as this business with Sloane is finished.

xXx

Zia is Reyes’ ex, not that they were in a relationship of any kind. They were a little exclusive for a short while, though – they had sex, and returned to each other when they wanted more, instead of seeking out others. That was the extent of their relationship. Reyes broke things off because, honestly, he was tired of the lies. Not just his own lies, but Zia’s. Zia was never honest, was always lying about something, and she’s a smuggler too – one would think they’d be the perfect match. Maybe that’s why Reyes tried to make it work; maybe that’s why he kept going back to her. On paper, they seemed perfect for each other.

But in the end, what he wanted was something more honest.

As it is, Zia has stolen from him. She stole precious cargo from one of his runners, using her usual tactics of charm, sex appeal, and typical lies and misdirection.

Reyes intends to get that cargo back, and find out what it even is, since someone paid so much to have it moved. It might be worth selling, or keeping. It could be big money.

So, he needs to find Zia and get that cargo back.

The only problem is, he’s hit a dead end. Umi is keeping tightlipped about the matter, with an apologetic shake of her head. She tells him to just stay away from it because she has a bad feeling, but she leaves it there. They aren’t exactly friends, but they aren’t on bad terms with each other. Her reluctance to help him, or tell him anything about Zia, is rather frustrating.

So, he’s hit a dead-end.

Maybe if he had a little more influence… which, he does as the Charlatan, but there’s the little fact _no one knows he’s the Charlatan_. No one but Keema.

So he can’t just throw his weight around for a personal matter of boring Reyes Vidal’s.

So, he himself doesn’t have the influence needed.

But someone does.

He doesn’t want to ask Scott for help, but he’s hit a dead end.

A day before Sloane’s party, he messages Scott that he needs his help with something.

He’d wanted to ask for his help earlier, honestly, if only to have the Pathfinder around a little more, but taking Scott to chase down his ex is not something he particularly sees ending well. He also doesn’t want to just rely on Scott for everything he can’t do himself; he doesn’t want the Pathfinder to think he’s just _using_ him, because he’s not.

But in the end, he breaks down and asks for Scott’s help.

Scott agrees immediately, without any information about what Reyes needs help with, and a small smile spreads across the smuggler’s face. Scott trusts too easily, and one day that will get him killed.

He grimaces.

_Not if I have anything to say about it._

Scott is open and honest and eager to help, eager to trust – and Reyes will make sure he remains that way, and doesn’t end up dead for his efforts.

Even if he has to get the whole planet to fall in line. He’ll do exactly that.

Once he has Kadara Port, he’ll make sure everyone knows the Pathfinder is _off limits_. There will be no more attempts on his life.

Reyes will make sure of that.

xXx

Umi is more willing to talk when he brings Scott along. Withholding information from the Pathfinder isn’t the wisest these days; he has a nifty way of getting what he wants out of people, by either going around them or just getting the information from the source. Plus, not many people on Kadara know too much about the Pathfinder; just that he fixed the planet, he has established outposts, etc. They only know the bits everyone knows. But they don’t know him as a person, so many aren’t willing to see if he has a short-temper.

Umi wouldn’t mind the short-temper, Reyes is certain. She likes a good fight.

But she smiles when he brings Scott up to the counter, and she starts telling them what they want to know. She mentions Zia is Reyes’ ex, too, which is rather unfortunate. Scott gives him a quick glance, frowning somewhat, but he says nothing about it. Umi saw Zia talking to some shady salarian, she said.

Scott says he’ll ask around for this salarian, and let Reyes know what he finds. Reyes would rather be there with him to ask around, but in truth the salarian probably knows Reyes is looking for him so he’s going to be on guard if he sees him. But few people actually know Scott Ryder; fewer still what he actually looks like. Scott will have better luck searching alone.

As they exit Kralla’s Song, Scott turns to him, frowning. Reyes stops and watches him for a moment, attempting to find the words he wants to say.

“So,” Scott finally says on an exhale. “You and Zia.”

He coughs. “Uh – yes, me and Zia. It was nothing.”

“She’s your ex.”

“Yes.”

“We you… close?”

“Not particularly,” Reyes says, shrugging. “We liked to… work off stress together, but that’s all. And occasionally we got drunk. It didn’t last long. It was nothing.”

Scott sighs. “Alright.”

“Why?” Reyes smirks. “Jealous?”

Scott scowls at him. “I’ll go search for your salarian.”

Reyes nods, and Scott turns to walk away. Reyes snags his arm with a firm grip around his wrist, and yanks him back. Scott stumbles slightly at first, but then turns to frown at Reyes. Reyes exhales slowly, and smiles. “Stay safe.” His gaze lowers, landing on the lingering mark of the hickey Reyes’ gave him. A primal part of him is satisfied.

Scott smirks. “Worried about me?”

_Always…_

“Just be careful.”

“Alright,” Scott says. “You too.”

Reyes scoffs. “Don’t forget about the party tomorrow.”

“I know, finding something to wear is a _nightmare_ ,” Scott mutters, even as he shakes his head and turns to walk away again. “Take care, Reyes,” he says over his shoulder, before he disappears into the crowd.

Reyes sighs heavily, and turns away to walk in the opposite direction.

xXx

Scott contacts him later, with Zia’s location.

Reyes doesn’t ask how it went with the salarian, because a part of him is just shocked they’re actually going to be able to wrap this up _today,_ in just a few short hours. Things go so smoothly when he and the Pathfinder work together.

They make it to a compound, just the two of them. According to what Scott learned, the cargo should be here, and maybe Zia, too, but this is where she took the cargo. If it’s here, they’ll find it.

Reyes glances at Scott, who nods at him in response. The smuggler takes the lead, and kicks in the door of the entrance to the compound, and Scott hurries in as soon as it opens, now in front of Reyes with a biotic barrier, but nothing happens. There’s no attack. No traps.

Hmm.

Scott’s biotics fade as he shares a quick glance with Reyes, over his shoulder.

Reyes’ mouth thins into a small white line as he looks around the open area. It’s rather empty, but just a few crates, but none what he’s looking for. Then he spots the container on the floor against the back wall – that looks like what was taken. He makes his way there, entrusting Scott to watch his back (something he’s never entrusted anyone with before) and picks up the container, twisting it open.

It’s empty. But this has to be it.

He looks around, confused. “I don’t understand… it’s empty.”

Scott exhales sharply. “It’s an ambush.”

“A _what_?” Reyes asks, wondering if he heard correctly.

Scott inches closer to him, walking backward with his gun drawn, as he looks around the room. “It’s an ambush and you’re the target. This is a trap.”

“I wondered if either of you would figure it out,” comes a familiar female voice, and Reyes’ anger rises as he looks up and sees Zia entering the room through a previously unseen door. She drops down to their platform, a gun slung over her shoulder, and three people behind her, with their own firepower.

Reyes’ blood boils. “Zia,” he spits, outraged. “You staged all of this? To get me here? Why?”

“I knew you couldn’t resist,” Zia says, smirking, even as she blows her red hair out of her eyes. “Such a big score, and you’re greedy.”

“You don’t know him,” Scott snaps, equally angry, it seems. Reyes’ gaze snaps toward him instead of the gunmen in front of them. He’s glaring at Zia, mouth drawn into a line of anger. “Reyes is a better man than you think.”

Reyes’ heart swells in that moment – he swears it does. He chokes on a swallowed breath of air, and it takes his racing pulse a few seconds to stop stuttering, but he puts himself back together just in time to hear Zia laughing loudly as she says, “oh, honey, you have no idea who he is. But you will.”

“Leave him out of this,” Reyes says, glaring at the redhead. Zia smirks at him, lifting her gun from her shoulder to look down the sights at him.

“Reyes,” she says with a smirk, “you _like_ this one, don’t you?”

Her aim shifts, then – her sights on Scott instead of Reyes.

“Well, he _is_ cute,” she says conversationally. “I’d do him too.”

“Why are we here?” Scott asks, scowling at her.

_That’s my space hero. Ignore her._

“Well, Reyes here is taking all the good jobs for us smugglers, and we’re tired of it,” Zia says, shrugging, her sight still focused on the Pathfinder. She has an itchy trigger finger, if Reyes’ memory recalls.

He inches closer to Scott.

“So, what?” he asks. “You all just joined together to take me out?”

“Something like that,” Zia says with a grin. “The Pathfinder was unexpected, but I guess he’s just a bonus.”

“You don’t need him,” Reyes tells her, through gritted teeth.

“A lot of people on this planet would pay a lot of money for him to wind up dead,” Zia says almost smugly. “Some are offering top dollar.” She laughs lightly. “You’ve really managed to piss people off, haven’t you, Pathfinder?”

“What can I say?” Scott asks through gritted teeth. “It’s a gift.”

Reyes inches closer. Just a few more feet and he can step in front of Scott. At least one of them can get out alive.

Zia winks at him, clearly aware of his plan.

“It’s cute that you care about this one, Reyes,” she says, shaking her head, “but I know how you work.”

She fires.

The sound drowns out Reyes’ choked “ _Scott_ ” as he hurries toward him even though he knows, in the back of his mind, it’s already too late and he’s failed completely. This amazing man is going to die because of him, because he pissed everyone off himself, and Reyes couldn’t do this job alone. Because he dragged him into this.

Except when the bullet leaves the chamber, Scott’s not there anymore.

He’s halfway across the room, barreling into Zia, having used a charge to escape the bullet with his name on it.

Reyes’ heart does… something. But at least he can breathe again.

He starts firing across the room at the enemies, as Scott works his biotics with barely tempered rage. He’s usually much more controlled, and doesn’t use them as much, but he charges from one person to the next, using a biotic nova in-between.

He’s a chaotic mess of untapped energy, all focused on Zia and her group. A shiver runs through Reyes’ spine; Scott Ryder is a force of nature, hidden behind a warm smile and sincerity.

He’s more than a little turned on by it – but now is definitely not the time.

It doesn’t take very long to defeat Zia and her crew. He’s not even sure who did the finishing blow on Zia herself – if it was him or Scott, or a combination of both, but maybe it doesn’t matter. She’s dead, lying prone on the ground, and Scott and Reyes are alive.

They’re _alive_.

For a few minutes there, at the beginning, Reyes had a few doubts about that. He thought it was all his fault, and he could at least make sure one of them lived, and Scott got out okay. He’s not especially afraid of death. The concept of it is frightening, but in the end it’s just like falling to sleep. He’s had enough near-death experiences to know that.

Reyes is no coward to death – but he _is_ a coward to watching his lover die for his mistakes.

It takes a minute for Reyes’ racing heart to calm down, but he flashes a smile toward Scott, as the Pathfinder walks toward him. “Well,” he says a bit roughly, before he clears his throat. “You were a force of nature.”

Scott scowls. “She tried to kill you.”

“I think she tried to kill _you_ ,” Reyes points out, those few seconds of thinking the worst flashing through his mind.

“People are always trying to kill me. But she lured you here to kill you. If I wasn’t here…” Scott trails off, biting down on his lower lip, looking Reyes up and down. “You’re okay?”

“You worry about me,” Reyes says with a soft smile. “I’m fine. How are you?”

He doesn’t see any open wounds on Scott, or cracks in his armor hinting that he’s been shot. He looks okay.

“I’m good,” Scott says with a small nod.

Reyes nods himself, looking around the room. “You go ahead back to your ship. I’ll clean up here.”

“Reyes. I’m not going to leave you to clean this up alone. You liked her, once upon a time.”

Reyes’ spine snaps straight. “I never liked her.”

“Yes, you did.”

He throws Scott a glare. “We fucked. That was it. That was all it was. I didn’t like her.”

Scott sighs. “Alright, sure. But I’m still not leaving you here alone. She might have more people nearby in case this plan failed.”

Hmm. Reyes didn’t think of that.

“Can SAM pick anything up?” he asks, looking around.

The building appears empty, but one can never be too careful.

Scott pauses for a moment, before he shakes his head. “He doesn’t sense anyone around, but that doesn’t mean no one’s here.”

“Fine,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You can help me clean up here.”

“Good boy.”

The look he gives Scott is not amused.

xXx

After cleaning everything up, Scott heads back to his ship and Reyes heads to Kralla’s Song.

He’s tired, and it’s been a long day, but he has a few questions.

“Why the hell did you not say anything to me until Scott was with me?” he demands of Umi.

The asari gives him a smirk as she continues making drinks, sliding them down the bar counter. “Because I knew you needed the help. I tolerate you; I hate Zia.”

Reyes exhales loudly. “It was a trap. I almost got the Pathfinder killed.”

If that had happened… he never would have forgiven himself.

“Almost, huh? I take it you’re both alive.”

“That’s not the fucking point.”

“Well, you would have died if you went alone,” Umi says, shrugging. “At least with the Pathfinder you evened the odds.”

“Not the fucking _point_ ,” he says again, teeth gritted. At this rate he’s going to need to visit a dentist soon.

She smirks at him again, leaning over the counter to talk privately to him. “You _like_ him. I never thought I’d see the day Reyes Vidal got attached to someone.” She pulls back, and picks up a glass to begin cleaning it, all the while smirking at him.

She’s rather infuriating.

Reyes sneers at her and pulls away from the counter.

“Don’t involve him again,” he throws over his shoulder as he leaves.

xXx

The night of Sloane’s party, Reyes is running a little late. He hopes Scott hasn’t gotten there before him, because he can’t get in without him.

The elevator ride from the slums to Kadara Port takes longer than usual – at least, that’s how it feels. When the doors finally open and the elevator stops, Reyes quickly steps out and briskly walks through Kadara Port, toward Sloane’s party at her headquarters.

Scott is at the entrance when Reyes rounds the corner, and he can just make out words as he gets closer.

“You’re not on the list,” the bouncer at the door tells Scott, shaking his head at him. “Sorry, kid.”

“He’s with me,” Reyes says, coming up behind Scott. The Pathfinder flinches, and he hides a smirk. _My easily scared space hero._ “I’m on the list. Reyes Vidal.”

The bouncer looks over the list, and then nods, stepping aside to allow them entrance. “Have fun, and no funny business.”

“I make no promises,” Reyes says with a smile, as he leads the way into the building. The music is loud, and the smoky atmosphere used to hurt Reyes’ eyes, but he’s been to too many of Sloane’s parties for it to bother him anymore.

Once inside, he picks a quiet corner and turns to face Scott, looking him up and down now that he can appreciate him. He’s wearing actual casual clothes – not just that white and blue version of his uniform like he usually does. He still has his jacket, but beneath it he’s wearing a form-fitting red shirt and faded blue jeans which hang low on his hips.

“You look nice,” he tells the Pathfinder.

“Thanks,” Scott says, smiling. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Reyes cleaned up the best he could, but Sloane’s parties aren’t exactly known for how clean they are, or how well the people are dressed. A few wear dresses and suits here, but then they’re easily marked for having money, and usually robbed at the end of the night. So, casual attire it is. He wears dark blue jeans, almost black in color, and a dark gray shirt with a black leather jacket. It’s comfortable, and has enough layers he can remove some if he gets hot, but if it decides to rain on his way home, or the winds pick up, he’ll have sufficient warmth and cover.

Always dress for any scenario, after all.

“You’re too kind,” he says, smirking. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Scott says with a small shrug. “Parties aren’t usually my thing, but… well, I guess the Pathfinder needs to make an appearance sometimes, huh?”

Reyes nods. “Of course, gotta keep that image up. I have someone I want you to meet.” He finds Keema in the crowd; she’s pretending to blend in and chat with someone else, but she quickly feels his gaze on her and smirks at him, abandoning her conversation rather abruptly as she walks toward them. Scott looks over as she approaches. “Scott, this is my friend Keema Dohrgun. Keema, this is the Pathfinder, Scott Ryder.”

Keema’s eyes lighten as she looks Scott over. “You’re much more handsome in person.”

Scott’s red now. “Um… thanks?”

“It’s good to finally meet you,” Keema says with a grin. “ _This one_ won’t stop talking about you.”

“Is that so?” Scott asks with a smirk, quirking a brow at Reyes.

Reyes clears his throat. “Only good things, I assure you.”

“I should hope so, or I’ll be forced to use all your coffee.”

Reyes snorts out an unexpected laugh, and then clears his throat again when Keema glances at him. He has something else he needs to do here, the main reason he wanted to come, but enjoying the party with Scott won’t be so bad, will it? Besides, he needs to scope out his target; there are too many people by the opening right now. He’ll have to wait. He grabs Scott’s arm and leads him away from Keema with a nod at her. She grins at him, all too knowingly, and he steadfastly ignores her.

“So,” Scott says once they’re alone at a small table set up in the room, “that’s Keema, your friend?”

“My only friend,” Reyes acknowledges with a shrug.

“Aren’t I your friend?”

“No,” Reyes says, smirking. “You’re more than a friend. So you don’t classify.”

Scott snorts.

Reyes’ heart does that racing thing it does whenever he’s in Scott’s presence these days. Maybe he should see a doctor. “I wanted to apologize.”

Scott’s brows furrow. “For what?”

“For Zia,” Reyes says, her name bitter on his tongue. “I should have handled that myself. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved.” _I shouldn’t have almost gotten you killed._

“Stop that.”

Reyes blinks. “Stop what?”

“ _That_ ,” Scott says, scowling. “Stop blaming yourself. If I wasn’t there to help, you would have been killed.”

“But _you_ were almost-” Reyes cuts himself off, snapping his mouth shut, teeth grinding.

The Pathfinder lifts a dark brow. “Reyes,” he says quietly, “I’m _fine_. We’re fine. It turned out okay.”

 _But it almost didn’t,_ he thinks but doesn’t say.

He sighs, and nods slowly. “You’re right.”

Scott smiles warmly. “I like this caring side of you,” he admits with a small laugh.

It’s been so long Reyes almost forgot he _has_ a caring side. He shows it so seldom, even to himself. But he does care. A lot, about Scott. He’s not used to having something, someone, he cares about – the thought of it being taken away is more than unpleasant. It burns hot deep inside of him, and boiling pit of raw fear and anger.

He smiles. “I have many sides.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Reyes looks around; the opening is empty for the time being. Now is his chance.

He pushes to his feet, and Scott frowns at him. “I’ll be back,” he promises with a grin. “Mingle, won’t you? It’ll be good for you to talk to these big players here, as the Pathfinder.”

Scott sighs, and nods. “Where are you going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Reyes tells him. “Be back soon.”

He slips away easily, losing himself in the crowd.

xXx

He’s looking through crates – and growing more and more agitated – in a back room when Scott finds him sometime later. He doesn’t hear the Pathfinder approaching, but Scott can be entirely too quiet when he wants to be.

“This is what you’re doing?” Scott asks, hurt in his voice, causing Reyes to flinch and spin around to face him. The Pathfinder stands in the doorway, hurt etched across his face, brows furrowed together. “You invited me here as a distraction so you could steal from Sloane?”

 _Oh, boy._ “It’s not like that,” he tells Scott, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well, you could have fooled me.”

Scott’s tone is cold, standoffish. His posture hints at him walking away. Reyes needs to do something, needs to fix this, because it’s not like that at all. Okay, maybe he needed someone to distract the party for a while, and Pathfinder is high-ranking enough to achieve that… but that’s not the only reason he invited Scott here. He invited him because he does want to spend time with him.

“Scott-”

“I don’t want excuses right now.”

His heart pounds painfully against his chest. “ _Scott-_ ”

Footsteps echo in the hallway outside the room. Someone is coming. Scott’s stony expression falters, his arms unfold from his chest, and he looks around worriedly. They shouldn’t be back here; if they’re caught rifling through Sloane’s things…

And yet again, Reyes has dragged him into something he shouldn’t have.

“Scott…”

Scott steps forward, scowling at him. “Shut up,” he mutters under his breath, and then he’s closing the distance between them.

Reyes staggers back a step, back pressed against the pillar in the room, helping to hold the ceiling up and stabilize the building. Scott’s mouth is hot and wet against his own, kissing him so deeply. His hands slip up the warmth of Scott’s body to tangle in his short hair.

A woman enters the room, as they’re in the middle of this heated kiss, and she stops for a moment, confused. She clears her throat, attempting to get their attention, before she sighs and backs away quietly, giving them privacy. Well, that’s one way to get out of being caught, he supposes.

Scott pulls back, scowling at him. “I’m still pissed at you,” he says almost breathlessly. “You better have a good reason for this.”

“Oh, I do,” Reyes says, nodding as he moves away from Scott, toward yet another crate. He climbs up on top of it, and then reaches into the crate above, and makes a sound of success when his fingers clasp around the neck of the bottle. He pulls it out, grinning as he glances at Scott.

Scott stares at him. “You went rifling through Sloane’s things… for alcohol?”

“Not just any alcohol,” Reyes tells him, climbing back down. “This is a work of art. It’s 600 year old whiskey, Scott.”

Scott snorts. “First the wine, now this…”

“I’m a man of the finer tastes,” he tells the Pathfinder, smirking.

“What if Sloane catches you?”

“She won’t,” Reyes says simply.

Scott sighs. “Right. Because you’ve planned this so perfectly. Why did you invite me, if you were just going to ditch me the first chance you got? You’ve been gone for a while. Did you just need me as a distraction?” Hurt slips across Scott’s face. “You could have just told me what part I was going to play.”

Reyes inhales slowly. “You weren’t just a distraction,” he tells him honestly. “I wanted you here because… I wanted to see you. I wanted you to come. I could have slipped in here without the distraction. You’re a bonus.” He clears his throat. “We should probably get out of here before someone sees us.”

Scott eyes the bottle. “I hope you’re planning on sharing.”

Reyes grins. “Only the best for my space hero.”

xXx

They’re on the rooftops again. Reyes isn’t sure how they keep ending up here, considering he’s not particularly fond of heights. It’s a beautiful view, though, and as he said – only the best for his space hero.

 _His_.

The adjective leaves a shiver slipping down his spine. _His_. Possessive in nature. He never thought of himself as possessive… but then he’d never had something to lose before, either.

Scott takes a chug of the whiskey and hands the bottle back to him. Reyes grabs the bottle and hesitates.

“You looked like you were going to leave,” Reyes says, remembering the stance Scott held in that supply room.

Scott glances at him, and then frowns. “I was. But I would have come back. I wouldn’t just walk away like that. I told you, you’re stuck with me.”

There are worse fates, Reyes decides as that knot of dread dissipates in his stomach, than being stuck with someone like Scott.

He inhales slowly. “Even if I piss you off…” he murmurs, voice soft, almost hesitant.

“Even then,” Scott agrees, his voice equally quiet. His fingers are just under Reyes’ chin, lifting his head and turning it so Reyes has nowhere to look but at the Pathfinder. Scott smiles. He leans in, and presses a light kiss against Reyes’ lips.

Reyes pulls him closer, kissing him greedily.

He’s always been a greedy man, and with Scott is no exception.

He wants everything the other man is willing to give. He wants… _more_. And he’s never wanted so much before.

He’s never been somebody to someone before… and that might mean more to him than being the Charlatan ever could.

The thought fragments his mind – breaks part little crevices. He’s never wanted anything more than running Kadara Port. He’ll be someone when he’s in charge.

But suddenly… that’s not enough.

Suddenly, he wants more.

He blames this man in front of him, the man kissing him senseless, the man he can’t quite seem to get enough of.

But again, there are worse fates than being stuck with someone like Scott Ryder.

“Come back with me,” he whispers when they break apart for air.

He can feel Scott’s smile, their mouths just barely touching as they remain close to each other. All he can smell is whiskey and Scott, and it’s a wonderful combination. “That sounds great,” the Pathfinder says. “But I have some things to do back on my ship.”

Reyes nods. Of course the ship comes first. He’s the Pathfinder, after all, he doesn’t have time to spend with a lowly smuggler on an exile planet.

“Come with me,” Scott says.

Reyes blinks, pulling away somewhat so he can properly see Scott’s face in the dying sunlight. “Huh?” he asks. _Oh, yes. You sound so very intelligent._

Scott shrugs. “I just have to make a few vid-calls, and check in with people. It’s a little time-consuming, and I can’t skip it, but you can hang around on the _Tempest_ if you want, and we can… hang out afterward.”

“Hang out, hmm?” Reyes asks, smirking at him. “Well, I can’t very well miss an opportunity to _hang out_ with the Pathfinder, now can I?”

Scott scowls at him.

Before he can say anything, though, Reyes kisses him silent.

xXx

The _Tempest_ is just like Reyes remembers it. Scott shows him to his room, and tells him to wait for him; he’ll be back in an hour or two. The kitchen is nearby if he’s hungry, and if he wants to mingle with the others, they’re probably in engineering playing a game of cards.

Reyes says he’ll wait, and for Scott to hurry back.

Scott leaves him with a smile.

Reyes looks around the large room. It’s unnecessarily large, and so is the bed. He wonders, briefly, how Scott doesn’t get lost in it when he sleeps.

There are model ships along the wall, more than the last time Reyes was here. Scott’s collection is growing. The little glowing blue orb flickers in pulsating bits of light, and Reyes walks toward the desk across the room.

“SAM?” he asks.

**_“Yes, Mr. Vidal?”_ **

“Hi,” Reyes says uncertainly. “I wasn’t sure if you were here or not.”

 ** _“I am present all over the ship, and with everyone’s implant,”_** SAM says. **_“Although, Scott is my priority. Did you need something?”_**

He’s talking to the AI that’s in Scott’s head.

“No,” he says. “I don’t need anything.”

**_“Very well.”_ **

“Are you always… here?” Reyes can’t help but ask. “Are you always active?”

 ** _“I can divert my processing to allow you and Scott more privacy, but I am always active,”_** SAM replies.

Which means he knows all about what they’re doing together. He knows everything. But Reyes knew that all along – he knew Scott was sharing his mind with an AI. But knowing and hearing it for himself are two different things.

“Are you… okay with what we’re doing?” he asks, almost reluctantly. He’s not entirely sure what he’ll do – what he _can_ do – if the AI says it _does_ have a problem with it.

**_“As I learn through Scott’s own actions, the whole scenario is perplexing. But yes, I am okay with what you are doing. It is Scott’s body; I simply share it with him. What he does, I feel. What he sees, I see. It is a symbiotic relationship.”_ **

“That doesn’t exactly answer my question…”

 ** _“You want to know what I think of the two of you being romantically involved,”_** SAM says.

 _Romantic_ is a strong word, Reyes wants to say, but he simply nods even though he’s fairly certain the AI can’t see him.

Can it?

 ** _“I think the two of you can be good for each other,”_** SAM says.

“But I’m a criminal,” Reyes finds himself saying.

_I can’t be good for anyone._

**_“You lower Scott’s stress levels considerably when he is in your presence. He relaxes and actually sleeps around you. I do not see how your job works into the equation.”_ **

“My job?” Reyes asks, a lump in his throat. What all does SAM know?

**_“You are a smuggler, and your job is, as you said, criminal activities. I do not think that matters on Kadara, however. Everyone here is trying to survive, as Scott explained to me. Does that make you a criminal, if you do what you must to live? Continued existence is a vital, driving force in any organism.”_ **

SAM makes it sound so simple, but it’s not. It’s really, really not.

Still, to hear that he’s _not_ a bad guy, yet again… first Scott and now SAM…

“What if I’m not good for him?” he asks quietly, watching the blue orb pulsate softly.

**_“I do not understand the question. You lower his stress levels considerably.”_ **

Reyes exhales slowly. “I almost got him killed.”

**_“You refer to your confrontation with your ex, Zia.”_ **

“He could have died. She wanted to kill him first.”

_She wanted to kill him so I would suffer before I died._

She knew he cared about the Pathfinder; so she was going to take that away from him before she did her job and killed him.

“I almost got him killed,” he says again, voice quieter this time.

He’s not used to having something, _someone_ , he can lose.

 ** _“The Pathfinder can handle himself,”_** SAM says. **_“Also, Zia hinted that she would have shot at him even if you two weren’t involved. You blame yourself, but that is unnecessary.”_**

“I almost got him killed,” he repeats, because SAM’s not understanding. “I could have handled that job alone. I shouldn’t have gotten him involved.”

 ** _“And then you would have been killed, alone in that building,”_** the AI tells him. **_“At least this way, neither of you died.”_**

“But it was _close_ ,” Reyes snaps without meaning to.

_It was close._

If Scott hadn’t charged… if he wasn’t a biotic… if he timed it wrong…

So many things could have gone wrong, and that would have been the end of the human Pathfinder.

And it would have been entirely _his fault_.

 ** _“Mr. Vidal,”_** SAM says, stirring Reyes from his thoughts. **_“Scott doesn’t blame you. Neither do I.”_**

Reyes swallows around the lump in his throat. _But I blame myself._

**_“As for whether or not you’re bad for him, you help him more than you know. That makes you good for him, and I think he is good for you, too.”_ **

This AI is a little too knowing for its own good.

But some small piece of Reyes relaxes – the tightness in his chest loosens, and he can breathe again.

Maybe he’s not the bad guy he thinks he is.

At least, not when it concerns Scott Ryder.


	13. My Spirit Screams and Dies Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott isn't the best to involve in the Charlatan/Sloane stand-off, particularly because he favors one of them. He's not un-biased like Sloane hopes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, it's THAT chapter. I'm sorry (not sorry). 
> 
> Chapter title is from "Back Against the Wall" by Cage the Elephant. 
> 
> Sorry about all the typos in this story. I'm on meds a lot for my migraines, and lately I've noticed I've been misreading words. I'll see one word and think it's another. When reading I can usually correct myself, but when typing, the right word will be in my head but I'll write down the wrong one or something, and I don't notice until I read it over later. And I never re-read the chapter before I post it because otherwise I'll chicken out and WON'T post it, at all. So. Yeah. Sorry for all the typos, guys. I can English, I swear xD
> 
> Next chapter is Reyes' POV. I think. Don't quote me.
> 
> Update: Honestly I'm stuck on how to even start the next chapter, or whose POV it should be in. Ugh.

_Chapter Thirteen: My Spirit Screams and Dies Again _

 

“Cora has a lead on the asari ark,” Scott says apologetically, entering his room where Reyes is waiting for him. The smuggler stands from his bed, approaching him. It’s hard not to look him over as he does so, with that little sway of hips Scott’s learning to know a little too well.

“So you’re leaving,” Reyes says.

“Guess so. I promised we’d look into it right away.”

“And you are a man of your word,” the smuggler says with a nod. “Will you be coming back?”

Scott scowls at him. “Of course I will. You’re stuck with me, remember?” His heart races every time he tells Reyes that, because it makes this more real between them. It makes it mean something, because he can’t just walk away. But he knew that going in; he knew it was going too far, that he was getting too close, and now he’s stuck. There will be no walking away. Reyes is stuck with him, but that means he’s stuck with Reyes, too, and that’s okay.

Reyes smiles, standing just in front of him. His hands find Scott’s, and their fingers entwine. “I could get used to that.”

Scott smiles back, even as Reyes leans forward. Their lips meet in a gentle kiss, lingering and tasteful, before Reyes pulls back.

“I’ll let you get back to being a space hero,” the smuggler says. “Be careful. No getting lost in space.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t think my pilot will let that happen. But I’ll be careful. Don’t get into any fights without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Another kiss, soft and sweet. Scott’s going to miss this while he’s gone.

He never thought it would be something he’d miss, because he didn’t have time for this. He still doesn’t have time; but somehow, they’ll make it work. Reyes seems to want this as much as he does, if their interactions are anything to go by.

Maybe they can make it work.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Scott says as Reyes puts on his jacket and heads for the door.

The smuggler looks over his shoulder. “Message me, let me know how it goes.”

“Of course. You as well.”

Reyes nods, smiles at him once more, and then takes his leave.

Scott sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and turns toward his bathroom to take a quick shower. Kallo will take off as soon as Reyes is off the ship and all their start-up protocols are met, so he doesn’t have to worry about that or be on the bridge for that, though he usually is. Right now, though, he just wants to relax.

It’s weird, relaxing. It wasn’t always a foreign concept, but lately that’s what it feels like. It’s easier, with Reyes. His cheeks burn just thinking about the smuggler, above and below him all at once. Their time together this past week was special, and he’s happy he got to enjoy Reyes’ company for a while.

He wants to believe Reyes’ enjoyed his company, too – but compared to the smuggler, he’s probably rather boring. He’s not entirely sure what Reyes sees in him, what makes him think Scott’s worth his time, but he’s going to enjoy the attention while it lasts. He wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t going anywhere – at least not mentally. Physically he’s heading into space because that’s his job, but he’ll be coming right back to Kadara, and Reyes Vidal.

He feels it when the ship leaves port – a small lurch in his stomach, a quick jerk of motion which leaves him pressing his palm flat against the wall for balance, and then they’re off. The warm spray of water washes over his shoulders and the back of his neck, dripping into his eyes as he leans his head back. It’s calming on his skin, relaxing muscles he didn’t know were sore.

SAM has agreed to give him privacy in the shower; he won’t disturb Scott unless it’s absolutely necessary, and he’ll try his best to otherwise occupy himself, even though he keeps a careful eye on Scott’s vitals. Scott isn’t sure if the instinct is purely for his benefit or for SAM’s; is the AI keeping a close eye on Scott’s vitals because he cares about Scott, or because if something happens to Scott, SAM loses his window to the world, however brief?

He prefers not to think about it.

Instead, he pictures Reyes above and below him, and reaches down to firmly grab hold of his semi-hard cock.

xXx

The Ark Leusinia is broken and beaten; it’s nothing but a heap of metal floating in space, and there are minimal life signs. According to their sources earlier, like Hydaria who fled from the asari ark, many evacuated the ship. Those that remain are doing… _something_. He’s not sure what, until he sees the kett forces invading the ship. Did these brave asari stay behind to fight the kett? It makes sense, he supposes. If the kett are fighting the leaders of the ark, then they won’t concern themselves with escape pods.

There are kett forces invading the ship.

Cora demands to come along on this mission; Scott allows it, even though he knows she’s not entirely level-headed right now. If he keeps her here, though, not only will she never forgive him, but she’ll drive everyone crazy because to her, these are her people; she spent a lot of time on the asari homeworld, training with them, thinking like them, _becoming_ them in mind if not in body.

The board the ship; it’s dark and quiet as they sneak through the hallways, the ship half destroyed and limping pitifully through space. They find kett forces quickly enough, and attack them. The battle is fierce but over quickly; the kett weren’t expecting an attack from behind. Through them, they enter a room where the asari are waiting. There aren’t many of them, but at least they’re there.

“Where’s your Pathfinder?” Scott asks, heart racing. Another Pathfinder is always helpful, and the more Pathfinders he saves (or creates, in Avitus’ case), the less weight there is on his shoulders, right? He won’t be alone anymore. No one will be counting on him as much.

“She died,” one asari says with a deep sigh. “I’m the Pathfinder now. My name is Sarissa.”

Scott exhales slowly. He was hoping an actual experienced Pathfinder would be here… but apparently not. That’s okay; he can do this. Sarissa was at least trained to be back-up Pathfinder, like Cora, so she won’t be nearly as lost as him, right?

The captain of the Leusinia explains that Sarissa stole some valuable information from the kett, and that’s why they’re attacking them so much. They want that information back, and they want Sarissa dead. They want them all dead, but Sarissa especially, because of the information she took from them. The captain says it was a foolish move; the kett wouldn’t be hunting them so hard if she hadn’t taken that data, but Scott can’t help but think it might have been a smart move. Yes, the kett are attacking them more ferociously because they have that data, but it could help them defeat the kett, or at least get the upper hand in a fight.

As it is, though, the kett are regrouping for a more powerful attack, and the Leusinia is stranded here unless they can help them. They can power up the systems, but the kett will just kill them all if they turn the power back on and let the doors open. There’s too many of them.

“Let us worry about the kett,” Cora says. “We’ll keep you safe, just open the doors and power everything up.”

_Oh, sure. I love being cannon fodder. Thanks, Cora._

**_I am sure that is not what she meant,_** SAM says helpfully.

Scott sighs, and offers a reassuring smile. “Sure, we’ll take care of it.”

The captain hesitates, before she nods and gives them directions.

xXx

They meet an asari named Vederia at a generator; she’s a little skittish but seems well-meaning enough. She leaves them to turn on the rest of the power while they deal with the kett, and Scott hunkers down behind cover, glancing over it to see what kind of forces they’re dealing with. All kinds of kett – the heavies, the chosen, etc. Great.

There’s so many of them.

“How’s it going with those generators?” he asks over the comms.

“Be done soon,” Vederia promises.

He exhales slowly, watching Cora charge into battle with her shotgun and biotics. He covers her with his assault rifle, summoning the combat bot Peebee made for him.

The kett just keep coming. As soon as they take out one, three more pop up in their place.

“There’s kett here,” Vederia whispers through the comms, worriedly. “I’m hiding… but they might find me…”

She sounds scared. Scott’s heart clenches.

“We need those generators on,” Cora replies calmly. “You can do this, Vederia. You have the training. You can do this. Remember Sarissa’s training.”

Vederia’s shaky breath is heard. “Right,” she says uncertainly. “I can do this.”

“We believe in you,” Scott says, nodding at Cora, even as he hopes he’s not sending an innocent person to her death.

“Going radio silent,” Vederia says.

Scott exhales slowly, reloading his gun. Once he eats through that clip, that’s all the assault rifle ammo he has. He switches to his pistol, and is in the middle of reloading that when a kett approaches Cora from behind, while she’s busy using a nova on someone else. His heart jumps into his throat, swallowing his warning which would happen too late anyway.

He charges across the room, into the crossfire. There’s pain in his shoulder as he slams into the kett, who was already firing at Cora. Cora whips around at the sound of the shot, and Scott is thrown sideways by the biotic explosion caused when Cora charges into the kett as well, shoving it away from Scott. Scott’s shoulder is throbbing, and when he glances down at it, there’s a streak of red clashing against the blue.

 _Oh,_ he thinks.

**_Need I remind you not to run into sniper fire?_ **

_Wasn’t a sniper._

He can _feel_ SAM’s frustration.

He pushes back to his feet as Cora finishes off the kett, and turns to face him completely, as Vetra shoots at the remaining forces, providing covering fire. Cora’s brown eyes are narrowed. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he says, waving her off. _SAM, make me fine._

 ** _You are not fine,_** SAM informs him. **_The bullet is still in your shoulder, though not near anything vital. However, the odds of infection are 9.3% and growing._**

 _I’ll take some meds and get the bullet out back on the ship,_ he tells the AI. _Just make me fight-worthy for now._

 ** _Very well,_** SAM all but sighs.

The pain lessens, a numbing sensation slipping through his shoulder. He smiles at Cora. “See? I’m fine. Is that all of them?”

Vetra has finished off the rest of the kett in the room.

“We need to keep moving,” the turian says. “If you two are done bickering.”

“We weren’t bickering,” Cora says defensively.

Vetra smiles. “I wasn’t talking about you. I meant SAM and Ryder.”

Scott scowls at her. “We weren’t bickering.”

“Sure,” Vetra says. “And your fling with Reyes Vidal is nothing.”

Cora smirks. “She has you there.”

“I hate you both,” Scott mutters, turning to lead the way into the next room.

xXx

It was Sarissa.

She let the previous Pathfinder die, just so she could collect some data. It’s useful data, but to just throw someone’s life away for it, especially the Pathfinder’s, and to not even tell anyone the truth about it…

It sits heavy in Scott’s stomach. Cora is furious, and betrayed; she looked up to Sarissa. Everyone did, it seems. And she threw the previous Pathfinder under the metaphorical bus, let her die pleading for her life, because she deemed information more important than a living being. Than her supposed ‘family’, her friend, her Pathfinder.

A part of Scott wonders if Cora would do the same, in the same position. Would she just let him die, if the information was good enough?

 _No,_ he thinks. _She wouldn’t do that._

She seems horrified by what they learned about Sarissa. She’s with Scott: no information is worth someone’s life.

When they confront Sarissa about this, she says she had no choice. They needed the data, she said; the kett would have just murdered them all without it. That might be true, but she still let someone supposedly close to her die, pleading for her own life. Scott can’t get the asari Pathfinder’s words out of his head – her tone, her words, anything. He almost wishes they didn’t find that audio evidence; he wishes he didn’t have it stuck in his head.

But they heard it, and they can’t just let it stand. _He_ can’t just let it stand.

He isn’t entirely aware he has the authority to strip someone of their status, until right that very moment. He takes away Sarissa’s Pathfinder status, and gives it to Vederia, who is (rightfully) nervous about the prospect, but is eager to make him proud. Someone is trying to make _him_ proud – _that’s_ a new one.

He reveals what happened to the previous Pathfinder, reveals Sarissa’s betrayal, and she stomps away angrily.

Scott hopes he hasn’t just made a terrible mistake.

But he can’t just let what Sarissa did stand; he can’t do _nothing_ about it.

At least this SAM is capable of changing hosts rather easily, unlike the one riding in Scott’s head. The one so deep into his systems, there is no hope of untangling him from SAM. But that’s okay; having his mind only be his own would be so strange now, and _wrong_.

But at least the others have that option. They can leave whenever they want; they can just pass their SAMs along.

Scott can’t.

He’s stuck being Pathfinder until he dies, and it won’t be of old age.

Maye one day he’ll be okay with that.

(But who is ever ready for a violent death?)

xXx

He feels dirty when he returns to the _Tempest_. Dirty from the betrayal of Sarissa. Dirty from the lies aboard that ship, dirty from the fight and the blood on his shoulder and just his overall tiredness. His whole body aches, and he just wants to sleep. Maybe, just this once, he’ll actually be able to sleep, and fall into a slumber quickly.

Sadly, Lexi is having none of that. She demands that he march himself to med bay immediately upon returning to the ship. He strips of his armor, and makes his way down the hallway, wincing as his arm moves wrong, SAM’s efforts fading now that they’re safe and Lexi can attend to him.

He can feel the bullet pressing into his muscle; moving his arm at all is a little too painful. He lets it hang loosely at his side as the doors to med bay swish open.

Lexi is waiting for him, omni-tool at the ready, immediately scanning him.

“Well,” she says after a quick scan, “the good news is you’re not dying.”

“Oh, good,” Scott says, rolling his eyes. “I thought I was at death’s door, standing on a banana peel. Lucky me.”

She shakes her head. “However, infection has already set in. I’m going to start you on some antibiotics, and get you a sling. I’m also going to have to dig the bullet out. I’ll get you something to numb the pain.”

She moves to do exactly that, and Scott sits heavily on one of the beds in the room, slipping his shirt off to toss it in a heap at his side. The movement tugs painfully at his arm, leaving him grimacing as he tries to ignore the stiff ache.

Lexi returns to stand in front of him a minute later, and jabs a needle into his wounded shoulder without preamble. He yelps, unable to stop himself, and jerks away from her as she pulls the needle out.

“You big baby,” she says.

“Okay, how about _you_ get shot and _I_ jab a needle into your wound,” he hisses, glaring at her.

“How’s it feel?”

“How’s it _feel_? It fucking-” He stops. Thinks. Glares some more. “It feels better.”

Lexi grins almost smugly. Almost. “Let me know when it’s numb; I’ll dig the bullet out. And don’t be afraid to tell me if you need another shot. It should be easy to dig out, but that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt.”

He grimaces. “And have you call me a baby again?”

She doesn’t smile. “In all seriousness, Ryder, tell me if you need another shot.”

He sighs heavily. “Okay. I’ll let you know.”

“Good. How is your shoulder? It’s supposed to work quickly.”

He rolls it; there’s only a small twinge of discomfort, not pain like before. “I think it’s getting numb. You can, uh… go ahead and start… you know… digging it out.”

She nods, and moves to retrieve what she’ll need.

He tries not to think about how much this is going to absolutely _suck_.

Lexi is as gentle as she can be, though, as she digs through his wound for the bullet lodged somewhere in his muscle. There’s pain, but it’s this deep ache more than anything. He grits his teeth and looks away as blood spills down his arm from where she’s digging through the wound.

Finally, her tongs clasp something solid, and she gives a sharp tug.

The pain is sharp, and he gasps as the bullet is yanked free. Lexi drops it in a silver bowl, along with the tongs, and then reaches for the bandages.

“I’ll give you medi-gel after I’ve bandaged you,” she tells him, starting to clean his arm with a swab before she bandages it. “Keep the bandages on for at least two days, and do not get them wet. Change them once a day, more if needed. Come see me if there’s additional stiffness or pain, or the wound becomes puss-filled.”

She’s starting to sound like a stereotypical doctor. If his arm didn’t ache so much, he’d laugh. As it is, it’s been a long day and he’s tired. He just wants to crawl into bed. “Thanks,” he tells her.

Her eyes narrow at him. “I mean it, Ryder. Tell me immediately if something changes.”

He smiles tiredly. “I’ll tell you,” he promises.

She nods, and finishes wrapping his shoulder. Once she’s done, she helps him slip his shirt back on before she picks up another syringe.

“This is an antibiotic to fight off the infection,” she says as she pushes the needle into his skin.

He glares at her the whole time.

But at least the shot isn’t going into his fucking _wound_ this time. Instead, she jabs it into his lower arm.

“Get some rest,” she tells him. “If you feel dizzy, lay down. Eat something. I don’t want your calorie intake getting too low.”

He fights the urge to roll his eyes, and nods at her once again. “Sure, I’ll do that.”

She quirks a brow at him. “SAM.”

**_“I will ensure he follows your orders, Dr. T’Perro.”_ **

She smiles. “Thank you. Off you go, Pathfinder.”

He grimaces, muttering under his breath about pesky AIs as he leaves the room.

xXx

Cora is… not quite herself, after their time on the Leusinia.

That’s to be expected, though; her whole world was thrown for a loop. She looked up to Sarissa, and to have her betray the asari Pathfinder and not even tell anyone about it… yeah, Scott can see how that shook her up.

She’s becoming more distant, and angry. She snapped at Liam yesterday for eating his cereal too loudly.

Scott wants to talk to her – needs to talk to her – but he doesn’t know what to say. What can he say, to make any of this better for her? It’s never easy when an idol leads you astray. He’s never had a specific icon to look up to; his father was rarely around, and his mother… she was amazing, but beyond being a good person, he never aspired to be just like her. Cora clearly deeply respected Sarissa, and followed her teachings, and identified more with the asari culture than the human ones, and now she’s been dealt this low blow. He doesn’t know how to help her.

All he can do, in the end, is be there for her.

He doesn’t go looking for her. He probably should, but he finds her alone nevertheless when he’s trying to follow Lexi’s (SAM’s) orders and is attempting to make himself something small to eat before bed. Cora is in the kitchen, alone, nursing a cup of coffee, staring down into the dark liquid like it holds all of the answers she seeks. Scott’s been there before; he knows the liquid is life, but it holds no answers.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, equipped with a sandwich.

She flinches, apparently unaware of his presence until then, which really isn’t like her. Cora Harper is a force of nature – she shouldn’t be this easily startled. She looks up and nods at him. “Oh, um – sure.” She scoots over to allow him more room at the small table.

He sits next to her, sliding into the booth seat.

“Coffee not to your liking?” he asks, noticing the mug isn’t even steaming anymore. What a waste of perfectly good coffee.

She blinks down at it, almost like she forgot it’s there. “It’s fine.”

He exhales slowly. “The whole ordeal on the Leusinia…” Cora tenses as soon as he mentions the ship’s name. “It was hard,” he continues, looking down at his sandwich.

“It… was,” Cora agrees quietly.

_Well… she hasn’t snapped at me yet…_

“The data Sarissa gathered might help us, but…” he sighs, shaking his head. “Matriarch Ishara deserved better.”

“She did,” Cora says, voice almost a whisper.

“She didn’t deserve to die pleading for her life.”

“No one does…”

“That’s true. No one does. But especially when it’s your _friend_ who lets you die.”

Cora sucks in a sharp breath. “I can only imagine how she felt in those final moments.”

“It sucks,” Scott says.

Cora snorts. “That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.”

“This whole situation sucks,” he tells her. “Maybe Sarissa thought she had no choice, maybe she thought it was the right move – we weren’t there. But either way, she let her friend die. She let her Pathfinder die.”

_… And would you guys do that to me…?_

A part of him will always wonder: are they loyal to him, or just loyal to any Pathfinder?

What is loyalty, really?

“A lot of Pathfinders are dying,” Cora murmurs.

Scott swallows.

“First your father, Macen, Matriarch Ishara… You could be next.”

He exhales slowly. She’s not threatening him. She’s merely stating that she sees a pattern. Patterns he can handle.

“And if you die…” Cora continues, oblivious to his thoughts. “… we’ll be lost.”

He bites down on his tongue. _Right. They only care because I’m the Pathfinder. If I was anyone else…_

“There are other Pathfinders,” he tells her, voice flat. “Avitus, Vederia… and the salarians are probably out there somewhere with their Pathfinder. It’s not like…” _It’s not like I’m that important anymore._

Pathfinders might be dropping like flies, but more are filling the empty spaces left behind.

He might have been important in the beginning, when he was their only option for Pathfinder, but now – now the Nexus, the Initiative, has others, has _options_ , and none of them are ever going to pick Scott Ryder, bumbling around looking for a place to get his footing. Avitus trained to be Macen’s second, even if he never thought it would happen. Vederia worked with the Pathfinder team aboard the Ark Leusinia. They were better prepared than Scott ever was. They’ll do so much better than him.

 ** _I do not appreciate this line of thought,_** SAM says.

He nearly chokes on his sandwich.

“Scott!” Cora says, thumping his back.

He swallows the last bite, eyes watering. “Sorry,” he chokes, air burning his throat. “You’d think after all this time I’d be used to hearing SAM’s voice right the fuck out of nowhere, but no – _still gets me every time_.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Cora says, shaking her head.

“Private channel,” Scott tells her.

She nods, watching him momentarily. “How is that going for you? With SAM, I mean. You were reluctant at first.”

 _I’m reluctant **now** , too. _“It’s fine,” he says.

“That’s it?” she asks, frowning at him. “You’re just fine?”

“Yep,” Scott says, popping the ‘p’ sound.

Cora shakes her head with a small smile. “Well, I’m glad you two are getting along.”

“Cora… for what it’s worth… you would have made a great Pathfinder.”

“No, I wouldn’t have,” Cora says, shaking her head.

Scott frowns at her. “What do you mean? Of course you would.”

“I’m good at following orders,” she says with a small sigh. “Not so much at giving them. You think on the fly, decide the fate of those around you, create alliances and defeat enemies, and you make it all look so easy.”

“I can assure you, it’s anything but _easy_ ,” Scott mumbles under his breath, even as his cheeks burn at Cora’s… compliment? He’s taking it as a compliment.

“Well, you make it look easy,” she tells him again. “So you must be doing something right.”

 

xXx

Scott doesn’t vid-call Reyes until his shoulder is healed and he doesn’t look so completely exhausted. He’s still sore, and lifting his arm above his head is a struggle sometimes, but the bandaging is off and Lexi says there’s no more signs of infection. He’s doing well. So, he finally vid-calls Reyes to let him know how he’s doing. He could send a message, but that seems… a little impersonal, after everything, and he just wants to see Reyes again.

_Wow… I must have it bad._

It’s been a while since he ached to just _see_ anyone.

Has he ever?

He sighs, and turns the vid-call on.

Reyes answers almost immediately. He looks tired, but his smile is bright, even with the blue-tinted image of the hologram. “You’re late,” he greets.

Scott scowls. “How am I late? We never had a set time.”

“You left here five days ago,” Reyes informs him, lifting a brow.

“And?”

Reyes shakes his head. “How did it go? I assume it’s over.”

Scott shrugs, barely able to hide his wince when he lifts the wrong shoulder. “It… was hard, but it’s over. I’ll tell you about it when I get back.”

Reyes is smiling again. “Oh? You’re coming back, are you?”

He almost laughs. Almost. “Of course. How could I stay away from a planet of exiles?”

“It grows on you,” Reyes says. “Like a fungus.”

He smirks. “Yes. So does a certain smuggler I know.”

“Are you calling me a fungus?” Reyes’ brow lifts.

“I mean… maybe? But only the best possible kind.”

“Oh, well, as long as I’m a _good_ fungus…” The smuggler’s head shakes. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Scott tells him. He’s not lying; he _is_ fine. He’ll tell Reyes about his shoulder, and what happened on the Leusinia, when he can talk to him face-to-face. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. How are things on Kadara?”

“The same.”

It’s Reyes’ usual answer to such a question.

“Well,” Scott says, “at least it’s situation normal, then. How are you?”

“I am well. Rather bored without my space hero.”

Scott bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “I’m sorry. Anything I can help with?”

“Oh, most certainly,” Reyes hums, smirking at him. “When you get back.”

“On my way.”

xXx

Suvi and SAM are getting close to getting a location for the Archon; they might be heading after him soon, which means they need to make this ‘shore leave’ count. He’ll also have to make sure they go back to Havarl or Aya at some point, so Jaal can relax, too. Jaal doesn’t seem to like Kadara, at all. It makes Scott feel bad about bringing them here all the time, but there’s no Reyes anywhere else. He’s being selfish, though; next time they’ll go to Aya or something, somewhere Jaal likes.

As it is, he’s back on Kadara, getting ready to step off the ship. He hasn’t told Reyes he’s here, wanting to surprise him down in Tartarus. He’s two days earlier than his rough estimation he gave Reyes. He told the smuggler they needed to make a pit stop first, before they arrived.

They didn’t.

Is it a lie if you’re just doing it to surprise your lover? Is it a lie if you _did_ mean to stop somewhere else, but at the last minute Vetra said never mind, and it probably wasn’t a good idea anymore?

It’s not a lie. He doesn’t like lies.

Circumstances simply changed, and now he has more free time on his hands, and he wants to surprise Reyes.

He steps off the ship, and makes his way toward the elevator which leads down to the slums. As he’s on his way, a hand grabs his arm and spins him away from the elevator. His first instinct is to fight; but then he feels the gun pressed against his ribs, and he stops.

“What do you want?” he asks the strange man.

“Sloane wants to see you.”

 ** _I have alerted the_** _Tempest **,**_ SAM informs him.

Oh, good. At least someone will know where to search for his body.

As he’s led through Kadara, he can’t help but feel he’s underdressed for the occasion. Sloane should only be visited (privately) when he’s in full armor, not when he’s in casual attired trying to sneak off to surprise his… what? Boyfriend? His cheeks flush.

He’s shoved forward into Sloane’s room, and the door closes behind him. He looks behind him but the man who brought him here isn’t with him anymore. Sighing, he pushes to his feet and walks across the room toward Sloane and her thrown. She’s leaning forward, glaring at him.

“I didn’t do it,” he says preemptively.

Her eyes narrow. “I need your help.”

“I swear I-” he stops. “You what?”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“You need… my help? _Mine_? But you hate me.”

“I do,” she says with a nod. “I’d like to kill you. But – you’re also what I need right now.”

“Um… _what_?” he asks, because she’s not making much sense at all.

“My… _friend_ , Kaetus, was attacked and left on my doorstep. He’s in bad shape,” Sloane explains, glaring at him the whole time. “His attacker left a note on him. The Charlatan wants to meet, face-to-face, alone. I can’t trust him to be alone, and at this point any of my people could be working for him… so I need someone impartial.” When she smiles, it’s all teeth and no mirth. “That’s where you come in.”

“Wait… let me get this straight. So the Charlatan wants to… _what_? Duke it out?”

“I don’t know. The paper just said he wanted to meet, alone. He gave me the location. Are you in or not?”

“Why me?”

“You’re the Pathfinder,” she says. “You’re impartial to what happens on Kadara, and at least you’ll keep it fair.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because that’s who you are.”

She has him there, somehow. He sighs. “Alright. I’ll go with you. But I’m only intervening if I have to. This is… between the two of you, and I’m not so sure the Charlatan likes me either. So if this just makes things worse…”

“I’ll take my chances. Let’s go.”

“Can I least grab some armor?”

xXx

The Charlatan wants to meet in some cave. It’s not the most ideal of locations, but for someone staying in the shadows… Scott can see the appeal. He himself doesn’t like it, though. He shivers walking through it, alone with Sloane. She wouldn’t let him bring any of his crew, and barely waited for him to grab his armor and tell everyone where he was going and what was going on. They were monitoring his vitals and would swoop in if they needed to. They probably had someone getting into position outside somewhere, right now, as soon as they got Scott’s location.

It was… refreshing, to have so much faith in his crew. To believe they _will_ come for him.

They’ll only come because he’s Pathfinder… and if he was just boring Scott Ryder they wouldn’t care… but for right now, they _do_ care, and he’s going to hold onto that feeling instead of the other one.

He follows closely behind Sloane as she walks through the cave with a swagger he knows is false: she’s worried, or she wouldn’t have invited him. He uses the term ‘invited’ loosely; he’s certain if he declined she would have just dragged him along anyway, or executed him for annoying her or something. Either way – he’s here now, and the fact he is, means she is concerned despite the way she walks.

They enter a clearing toward the back of the cave. It’s dark, but at least this area has a little light leaking through so they can see, even if it’s still dimly lit. He looks around uncertainly, following behind Sloane until she stops. There’s a wall ahead of them, but it doesn’t go all the way up; above it are shadows, perfect for a way out if they seriously need one.

“Are you sure this is the spot?” Scott asks, looking around again.

“Yes,” Sloane says.

“Well… do you have the date and time right? Are we late? Early?”

“This is the time.”

_Then where are they?_

Something moves. He twitches at the sound, and looks up the rock face to find someone now standing at the top, having stepped out of the shadows or behind a rock formation. He stares at the person, uncomprehending for a long moment, not because he doesn’t understand, but because it all suddenly clicks into place and he doesn’t _want_ to understand.

“What’s this?” Sloane asks, scoffing at the man standing up there. “I’m here to meet the Charlatan, not some half-rate smuggler.”

“They’re one in the same,” Scott says, the words feeling bitter on his tongue as he stares up at Reyes. Reyes barely spares him a glance, focusing instead on Sloane, and those familiar lips twitch into an easy smile.

_I’m stupid. I’m blind. How did I miss this…_

Reyes Vidal is the Charlatan, and somehow Scott is the last to know.

It shouldn’t hurt this much.

“ _You’re_ the Charlatan?” Sloane asks, frowning at Reyes, who jumps down from the top of the rock face to stand in front of them. Scott steps away from them – either to leave them to do what they came here to do, or because looking at Reyes right then is painful, he’s not sure.

“You lied,” he whispers. _A lie of omission, but… why didn’t you tell me…_

Reyes lied, and what if he’s just been using Scott to get what he wants, to manipulate the situation to his advantage? The hurt stabs deep, all the way to his core, and if SAM wasn’t preventing it he’d be having a panic attack right now. As it is, he snaps his mouth shut and tries not to think about how much this is killing him inside.

“You _lied_ ,” he says again, stronger this time.

Reyes finally looks at him then – with this pained, twisted expression. “Not about everything,” he says, before he looks back at Sloane. “Let’s settle this, just me and you, one against one.”

“How do you suggest we do that?” Sloane asks, as they pace around each other in a slow circle.

“A duel,” Reyes says. “Winner takes Kadara.”

“Hmm… I like those odds,” Sloane tells him.

Reyes smiles. “Good.”

They keep circling each other, moving a little faster now, fingers twitching at their sides, near their pistols.

Scott’s mind races. He’s not sure how this will end – with lies and manipulation or with Reyes dead on the floor. He’s not sure which is worse.

 _No_ , he thinks, _don’t lie to yourself. You don’t want him to die._

Even if Reyes never felt anything for him… even if he was just using Scott this whole time… Scott still cares about him. He doesn’t want him to die.

“There’s just one problem,” Sloane says, smirking.

“And what’s that?” Reyes asks.

“I know your weakness.”

Sloane’s fingers wrap around her pistol as she twists to the side. A sniper shot barely misses her, scraping her arm as she spins. There’s pain, sudden and sharp and igniting, all the way through his chest. Is that panic attack finally happening?

“ _No-!_ ”

He’s on the floor – he thinks. Something hard and gritty beneath his head. Shouting. Someone’s shouting. Him? No – he can’t breathe. He’s not talking.

Tired. He’s so tired.

A shot rings out – loud in the blood rushing in his ears. Hands on his face.

A voice, familiar and calming despite the hitched cadence.

_“Scott-”_

Reyes’ face is blurry above him, everything started to dim and fade. It’s so hard to breathe. What happened?

 ** _You’ve been shot,_** SAM informs him, voice quiet. **_I am attempting to stem the flow as best I can, but you need immediate medical attention. You’ll die in minutes otherwise. You need to remain awake. Focus on Mr. Vidal. He is distributing medi-gel, but it will not fix the internal damage so easily. You are losing too much blood._**

There’s a pulse of… _something_. His mind clears, if only slightly. SAM is working hard. He blinks, long and heavy. Reyes is still blurry but at least he can make out his eyes. If that’s the last thing he gets to see, he supposes that’s not so bad as a last sight.

Reyes is mouthing something. Either his voice is gone or Scott’s hearing is shit, he’s not sure which. Hands tug at his chest plate – it fucking _hurts_ , and a whimper manages to escape his lips, torn from failing lungs.

Reyes is talking. His voice is relaxing, even if Scott can’t understand the words.

His eyelids lower.

Pain, sharp and sudden against his cheek. _Did he just fucking slap me._

His eyes twitch back open.

Reyes presses a kiss to his forehead, his mouth moving as he speaks. This close, Scott can almost understand him. Almost.

“If you – I will – _hear me_?”

It doesn’t make sense, but it’s Reyes’ voice and it’s all he needs right now.

His eyes close again.

A bite against skin. Something wet on his face, dripping, salty. “You can’t – _Scott-_ ”

He feels it when his lungs lock up.

There’s no panic.

Shouldn’t there be panic?

**_“Scott-”_ **

There are too many voices calling his name.

Too much. It’s too much.

He doesn’t fight the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wondered what would happen if the scene went something like this. I mean, yeah, Sloane invites you before you guys know who the Charlatan is, and she thinks you'll be impartial to it all and keep it fair, but upon realizing who the Charlatan is, she doesn't even seem concerned about it even though you attend her party as Reyes' guest and she's supposed to be the head of Kadara Port; so if you romance him, I'm sure she knows about it. She has to know you're at least friendly with him. And then when it's revealed he's the Charlatan, she's not even like "oh, the Pathfinder might be on his side then, not mine or impartial like I thought". So. That's where this came from. 
> 
> I'm (not) sorry.


	14. Bleeding from the Holes in My Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyes is no good for Scott.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "Hypocrite" by Cage the Elephant.
> 
> Guys. Fuck. This chapter was so hard to write, for a variety of reasons. First - soooo much angst. Uh. Sorry? Second - it was HARD to write Reyes' POV here, because I don't want to make him OOC, you know? So I tried to stick with the character in the game and what I'd added to him, and... well, it was a mess. I deleted and changed and fixed and rewrote so fucking much of this chapter, you don't even know. I agonized over this. For you. I hope it holds up. 
> 
> I also couldn't figure out how to end this chapter. Um. No cliffhanger? I guess? Yay for you. 
> 
> I hope this chapter lives up to all the comments of last chapter. Holy fuck. So many. Thank you guys so very much!! They made me smile despite that 4-day long migraine. So, thanks. So much. Really. I live for those comments. <3 This is for you. 
> 
> Now I have to shower and go to bed because I promised my boyfriend I'd sleep for once... ugh. Night (morning) guys.
> 
> Comments are life <3

_ Chapter Fourteen: Bleeding from the Holes in My Face _

 

Reyes Vidal is a man of action, even if he’s behind the scenes most of the time. He’s a smuggler, and gets into his fair share of scrapes, but he’s also the Charlatan, giving orders and pulling strings, manipulating things into his favor. That includes Sloane Kelly. Since the creation of the Collective, she has grown more hostile. Her hostility, and angers, blinds her. Reyes will always use this to his favor.

She has a turian, Kaetus, guarding her. They’re friends, if Sloane Kelly has friends. Kaetus is loyal to her. Reyes thought about getting Kaetus on his side, but there is no changing that turian’s mind. To get to Sloane, though, and get her to come to him – he’ll have to be creative. He’s been thinking about it for weeks, ever since he secured himself a discrete, capable sniper to deal with the finishing blow.

It’s all careful work, and it’s a slow process. Causing enough irritation for Sloane that she’ll even be willing to talk to him, to end this, takes time. At first she sees the Charlatan, and the Collective, as simply a nuisance; a thorn in her side, but not really worth her time. She ignores them, for a long time. Reyes needs to make himself more than a nuisance.

He does so slowly. He stops a few of the Outcasts’ operations, becomes a touchy subject for Sloane, and even goes so far as to plan Kaetus’ murder.

He doesn’t want to kill the turian just to prove a point, but Kaetus is close to Sloane, so sending his message with the turian is the only way to get Sloane to finally listen. Maybe murder is a bit much, though; he could just seriously injure the guy. Maybe that will be enough for Sloane to accept his terms, to put an end to this. He has to annoy her enough, hurt her enough, that she’ll agree to it, that she’ll come alone just to end this.

A sliver of dread flits down Reyes’ spine. If he’s willing to use Kaetus against Sloane… he can only image what Sloane would do if their positions were reversed. If Sloane hunted him, knew he was the Charlatan…

She’d go after Scott.

Because that’s what he would do. It’s what he _is_ doing.

He’s going after Kaetus because he’s a close friend of Sloane’s.

Sloane would go after Scott because he’s… _special_ , to Reyes. He’s not sure what they are, if they need labels or anything – but Scott is his _something_ , and he’s certain everyone on Kadara knows it at this point. It’s not like he’s been trying to hide it, hide Scott. They even went to one of Sloane’s parties together.

If she finds out he’s the Charlatan before he’s ready…

_She’ll kill him._

That cold, tight feeling is back, freezing his lungs.

_She’ll kill him, and it will be my fault._

Scott won’t even know _why_ she’s killing him. He won’t know anything about it, or what she might say to him before she does it, because Reyes hasn’t told him he’s the Charlatan.

That’s why this has to end, soon. _Very soon_. In a few days, hopefully. This needs to end as soon as possible, because the longer he draws this out, the more danger Scott will be in, and Scott’s life is not something Reyes wishes to toy with. He needs to end Sloane before she finds out, before _anyone_ finds out, and then he needs to tell Scott everything.

Hopefully Scott will forgive him for keeping his identity a secret. Hopefully he’ll stay.

 _He said he would._ But people say all kinds of things, before they learn the truth. He said he’d be okay with whatever Reyes has to tell him, whenever he’s ready… but what if he’s not? What if he hates Reyes after he tells him he’s the Charlatan?

That chill is back, flitting down his spine, snapping it taut.

What if clear blue eyes turn dark with hatred?

What if lips, usually pressed to his own, spew words of anger?

Reyes is no stranger to the mess that is his life, but a vital part of him sincerely hopes that Scott doesn’t become a part of that. That the Pathfinder doesn’t become something he can never truly have. Things are going so _well_ between them; he doesn’t want to ruin it.

He always ruins everything. He can’t ruin this. He can’t ruin Scott.

Keema tells him where Kaetus will be. Reyes doesn’t risk going after the man himself, just in case someone is watching and he’s exposed. He can’t be exposed, because then Sloane will go after Scott, and there is no way he can let that happen.

So he sends someone else to attack the man.

They return a few hours later to give him the good news.

Kaetus is out of commission, and Sloane is _pissed_. They left a note with Kaetus’ defeated body, and she is ready to meet.

Reyes feels only momentary guilt at what he did to Kaetus; it had to be done, and at least the turian is still alive.

_Sloane would have killed him._

Scott.

She would have killed Scott, if their positions were reversed.

He exhales, and sends the man away.

Scott isn’t due back for a few days. He’ll have to get this over with before then.

He contacts Keema and tells her to ready the sniper for tomorrow.

This needs to be over before Scott returns, and captures Reyes’ attention again.

xXx

The second Reyes sees Scott follow Sloane into the cavern, he knows it’s over. The lies are revealed – his secret will be out. Gods only know what Scott will think of it all. He never wanted him to find out this way; he was going to tell him himself, just as soon as this is over. Now he’ll never get that chance, and this is the _worst_ way to find out, he’s certain.

He can’t look at Scott, or he’ll falter. He can already see the hurt etched across Scott’s beautiful face. He can’t look at him. He focuses instead on Sloane, smiling at her.

“You _lied_ ,” Scott says, the hurt too much to bear.

He finally looks at his lover. Ex-lover? Will Scott forgive him for this? _You said you wouldn’t walk away if I didn’t want you to._ “Not about everything,” Reyes tells him. _I didn’t lie about who I am. You know me. I just… didn’t tell you everything. I wanted to._

He challenges Sloane to a duel, one against one. The sniper is hidden in the shadows up above. Everything should go according to plan, except it’s already backfired because Scott is here, and he shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t be involved with any of this.

It’s dangerous, him being here. At least the sniper will have their sights trained on Sloane.

Why did Sloane involve Scott? She was supposed to come alone. What is Scott even doing here? He said he wouldn’t be back for a few days.

There was supposed to be time.

“I like those odds,” Sloane says, agreeing to his duel as they walk around each other in a slow circle.

He smiles again. “Good.”

They keep circling. Just as soon as she’s in position, the sniper will fire and Sloane Kelly will die. Reyes needn’t worry about a thing, save for the fact Scott will probably never talk to him again, after this.

_Don’t think about that._

If he thinks about it, he’ll falter. And he can’t falter.

He’s planned everything – except for Scott to find out like this. Except for Sloane to turn to the _Pathfinder_ for help, of all people.

“There’s just one problem,” Sloane says, smiling at him.

It’s the smile that gets to him. Dread coils heavily in his stomach.

She’s almost in position.

“And what’s that?” Reyes asks, to keep her moving.

Her lips twist into a sneer. “I know your weakness.”

She spins away from him, her pistol in her hand. The sniper fires, but misses due to her new angle, and she’s lifting her gun to fire. But not at him.

Ice hits his veins. _No._

She fires before he has a chance to move, to warn Scott, to stop her, _anything_ – and then Scott’s falling.

His breath stutters. “ _No-!”_

The word tears free of his throat as Sloane turns to smirk at him. He’s frozen, legs stuck to the ground, lungs locked tight. All he can do is stare at her, denial coursing through him. _This isn’t happening._

“I might lose the battle today, but at least you won’t get everything. I might lose my life but you’re losing something too. So who is the real winner here?” she tells him with a laugh. “His death is on _your_ hands.”

The sniper fires again. Sloane jerks as the bullet rips through her chest, much like hers just tore through Scott’s.

_Scott._

Reyes doesn’t remember moving. He doesn’t remember stepping over Sloane’s body.

But he’s suddenly crashing to his knees next to the downed Pathfinder, hands shaking as he reaches to cup his face, feel the warmth of his skin. “ _Scott_ ,” he chokes, gaze lowering to look at the blood. There’s a lot of it. Of course Sloane uses armor-piercing shredder rounds. Of fucking _course_. She always wants the maximum damage, even with her pistols. And now she’s shot Scott, and he’s bleeding. A lot. There’s already so much blood. “Scott,” he says again, voice not quite as ragged, though it still trembles slightly. “Look at me. That’s it – c’mon. Look at me.”

Scott’s eyes land on him, but they don’t appear to be focusing. Reyes’ lower lip shivers and he sucks back his despair; he can’t. He can’t do that right now. He has to focus, he has to _save_ -

His trembling fingers nearly drop the medi-gel, but he manages to inject it into Scott’s neck. If Scott feels the pinch, he doesn’t react. Instead he struggles for breath, lungs clearly failing.

The wound is dead center on his chest – just to the right of his fucking _heart_. There’s so much blood. He doesn’t have a lot of medi-gel; only one pack. He didn’t think he’d need it, since it was just supposed to be him and Sloane, and now Scott is going to pay _yet again_ for his mistake. One little thing of medi-gel seems to do _nothing_ , as the blood is still spilling out of the Pathfinder at an alarming rate, and Reyes’ knees are soaked with the sticky, red substance.

 _This is it,_ Reyes thinks, desperation clawing at his throat, _this is how it ends._

“Scott?” The Pathfinder’s eyes aren’t focusing, his blinks growing longer. Choked breaths escape from barely parted lips, blood dotting exposed white teeth. “ _Scott_.”

 ** _“You will need access to the wound,”_** SAM says suddenly. Reyes flinches; there’s no terminal around to hear him, so how is he hearing SAM’s voice right now? **_“I have minimal access to your implant; everyone on the arks were given similar implants so that the SAMs could monitor them. Scott doesn’t have much time; you need to stem the flow and slow the bleeding.”_**

Reyes’ hands shake as they ghost over Scott’s pale skin. “What do I do?” he asks, ignoring the tremble in his voice. “Tell me what to do.”

He doesn’t know where the sniper is; maybe they ran off after they killed Sloane. Maybe they’ll still here, listening to everything. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t really care at that moment, unless the sniper has medi-gel.

He looks around. “Ethan?”

There’s silence.

His heart hammers in his chest as he looks back down at Scott.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, looking into the glazed pools of blue. They’re so dark, the blood stealing the color. They’re usually so clear and blue, and now… “I’m _sorry_. I should have told you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He just keeps apologizing, over and over, because he doesn’t know what to do or say to make this better. He’s just so _sorry_.

His fingers find Scott’s chest plate. If he can get this armor off, and get access to the wound, he can stem the flow until help arrives. Someone is coming; they have to be. Surely Scott told someone where he was going, and surely they were watching his vitals. They have to be coming.

Scott’s dead if they’re not.

Reyes exhales sharply, tugging at the chest plate. _Come on, get off!_

Scott _whimpers_ , this breathy, choked cry of pain which immediately has Reyes stopping.

“SAM?” he croaks, swallowing thickly. Scott’s breathing is this staggered, broken pattern he hates hearing.

 ** _“Keep going,”_** SAM advises. **_“It hurts him, but it must happen. He is not aware of much.”_**

Reyes exhales sharply, and nods even though he’s fairly certain the AI can’t see him. His fingers curl around the chest plate again, yanking hard. This time it slips off, disconnecting from the back plate, and he tosses it aside. Blood gushes from the wound on Scott’s chest, his underclothes soaked through with it, despite the dark color attempting to hide the severity of it from him.

“ _Scott_ …” he whispers, pressing both hands atop the wound, applying as much pressure as he can. If Scott feels the pain, he doesn’t show it. His blinks are getting too long. “Don’t leave me.” The words surprise him, but he means them with everything he has: _Don’t go._ Not yet. Not like this. Not because of him.

 _You said you wouldn’t go unless I wanted you to. I don’t want you to. You have to stay._ _This is all my fault._

He’s the reason Scott’s dying. If he’d just told him right from the beginning, he could have avoided Sloane when she asked for help. If he’d known right from the start…

_But he didn’t know._

Because Reyes didn’t tell him. Because he thought there would be time later.

But now… Now there’s no _time_.

Scott’s dying.

_I’m losing him._

He’s never had someone to lose before. This, he decides. This is why.

There’s a pain in his chest that has nothing to do with injury. At least, not his own injury.

“Stay with me,” he whispers softly, attempting to reign in his emotions, even as Scott’s blood squishes through his fingers. “Scott? Sweetheart…” The endearment falls from his lips, and for just a split second he thinks it’s working, Scott hears him, because the Pathfinder inhales rather sharply, blinking at him. “Sweetheart, do you hear me? _Stay with me_. Help’s coming. Right, SAM?”

The AI doesn’t answer him. Reyes’ breath is more like a sob, as his vision blurs. He’s alone in this. He’s alone in helping Scott. Where is SAM? Where’s the help? Where’s the rest of Scott’s crew?

 _Please…_ he thinks, for the first time in years. _Please. Don’t let him die._

Not like this, not because of him. Not when it’s all Reyes’ fault.

 _“His death is on_ your _hands.”_ Sloane’s words echo through his mind and cut through his heart.

Scott’s eyes are closed.

“ _No,_ you’re not dying,” he growls, even as he slaps Scott’s cheek. Scott’s eyes twitch open, even if they only remain at half-mast. He’s still awake, he’s still _alive_. He’s alive.

He’s dying.

_I’m going to lose him._

There’s no help coming.

 _“His death is on_ your _hands.”_

 _I’m sorry,_ he thinks, as his lower lip trembles again, his eyes burning hotly. _Sloane can have Kadara Port. Just let him live._

He’s not aware he’s leaning forward until his lips press against Scott’s forehead. His skin is colder now – colder than it was when Reyes first reached for him when he crashed to his knees next to him.

“If you die,” Reyes says, swallowing thickly, lips pressing lightly against Scott’s cooling skin as he struggles to think clearly. “If you die… I will bring you back just to kill you myself for doing this to me, do you hear me?” Those eyes still aren’t focusing, and the sound of Scott’s broken breaths fills the air. “ _Do you hear me_?”

Those eyes close again. Scott’s breath stutters, slowing.

Something inside of Reyes snaps.

“ _Please_ …”

He kisses a trail down from Scott’s forehead, over his nose, and to his mouth. He bites sharply at that lower lip he knows so well, and feels a wetness slipping down his cheeks to splash against the pale face below.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers brokenly. “I’m _sorry_. Open your eyes. Please, don’t go. You… You said you wouldn’t leave unless I wanted you to. I don’t. _I don’t want you to go._ You… _SAM?_ ”

The AI still doesn’t answer him. Has it already fled? Is SAM part of Cora now, or someone else?

Did the AI just _give up_ on Scott?

The desperation floods his chest. It’s hard to breathe, his breaths beginning to sound much like Scott’s own.

“You can’t do this to me,” he whispers on a ragged exhale, the taste of his own tears strong in his mouth, along with the metallic taste from the blood dripping from Scott’s mouth. “You can’t just _die_. You’d be such a… a horrible space hero, going out and just… not coming back.” Because he can’t say dying. He can’t. Saying it aloud makes it real.

Scott’s not opening his eyes. He’s not making any indication he can hear Reyes.

“Scott?” he whispers, leaning back to press a hand to the Pathfinder’s cheek, tapping lightly. “Sweetheart, open your eyes.”

 _Stay with me,_ he thinks desperately. _Just a little longer._

Just not yet. _Not yet_. He’s not ready yet.

He won’t ever be ready, but especially not yet.

“You can’t-” he cuts off, words failing him. _You can’t die._ He closes his eyes, the tears falling quickly. “ _Scott_ …”

Scott’s body jerks as his lungs stop. Reyes still has his eyes closed, but he feels the jerking movement. He hears the sudden silence. His eyes snap open. Scott’s still and slack and breathless and bloody and _everything he should never be_.

“No,” he chokes, staring down at the too-slack face, willing those eyelids to twitch _just once more_. “No. _No_. I won’t allow it. You’re not dying. Scott-”

He snaps his mouth shut, the broken tone sounding nothing like himself. His fingers jam into Scott’s neck, pressing into cooling skin.

_There._

There’s a pulse. It’s weak and thready, barely there at all, but it’s _there_. Scott’s alive. He’s _alive_ , he’s just not breathing.

Reyes is just about to lean over him and start breathing for him when he’s suddenly lifted into the air by a biotic singularity. It burns against his skin, twisting and pulling, but honestly all of that pales in comparison to seeing Scott so still on the ground, lying in a pool of his own blood. From this height, Reyes has a good (bad) view of the scene. The tightness in his chest increases as he fights to get free, because he doesn’t have time for this. _Scott_ doesn’t have time for this.

“I don’t know what you did,” Drack says, glaring at him from the ground as he, Vetra, Peebee and Liam surround Scott, “but I’m going to enjoy tearing you apart.”

“I’ll gladly let you,” Reyes says, gaze focused solely on Scott. “Breathe for him – he still has a pulse, just – _breathe for him_.”

There’s help here now. There’s help.

They’ll save their Pathfinder.

The orb he’s trapped in starts moving. He struggles, but he can’t stop it from inside it, and he’s moved out of the cavern by Peebee. “ _Stop_ ,” he hisses. “I’m not leaving him!”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Peebee says. Reyes doesn’t know her well at all, but he doesn’t think she usually sounds so… disturbed.

The words pain him like little else, except that sight of Scott so still on the ground. “Where _were_ you?” he snaps, desperation clogging his throat. The words come out more harshly than he intended. “Where were you!”

“We weren’t far from here when… SAM told us he was shot,” Peebee tells him, still dragging him along, toward the Nomad, he can see now. “What happened?”

“It’s my fault,” Reyes whispers, the anger fading. All that’s left is this emptiness.

_It’s all my fault._

“What happened?” the asari asks again.

“Sloane wanted to hurt me,” he manages to say.

She wanted to hurt him – kill him emotionally, if she couldn’t physically.

_And she succeeded._

This is killing him.

This is why he can’t have attachments. This is why he’s never been somebody to someone before. _This_.

Because it hurts so _much_ … when they get taken away.

He thought Scott would leave.

The thought he won’t get a choice in the matter, that he’ll just be stolen from Reyes…

 _Because_ of Reyes…

“Hey,” Peebee says, and he realizes he’s close to hyperventilating. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

“It’s _okay_?” he hisses, glaring at her. “Put me down!”

He needs to get back to Scott. He has to save him.

And if he can’t… if these are his last moments with the Pathfinder… then he needs to be there. He can’t be _here_ , stuck in this stupid orb.

He has to… He has to _do something_.

He’s released, suddenly. His feet hit the ground and he nearly topples over, but catches his footing and starts to hurry back toward the cave. Peebee catches his arm, yanking him backward. He snarls, attempting to twist his wrist free, but she has a surprisingly strong grip.

“You can’t help him,” she tells him again. “Let the others work. You’ll only get in the way.”

The fight leaves him. He knows that’s true. He was never the best medic.

But this is Scott’s blood staining his hands, Scott’s blood on his lips, blood that should have been safely trapped inside his veins. He can’t just stand here and do nothing.

“I have to-” He stops, unsure how to finish that sentence. He tears free of Peebee’s grip, and runs toward the cave’s opening. He doesn’t know what he can do, but he has to be there.

He runs straight into Drack, and by default, Scott as well. The krogan is carrying him, much like before, with the Pathfinder’s head lolling limply against his chest. He’s so pale, the blood standing out in stark contrast. Reyes’ heart stutters in his chest.

“Is he-” _Alive. Tell me he’s alive._

He doesn’t look alive. He looks small, frail, and _dead_ , held by Drack like that. Everything Scott Ryder should never be.

“Move,” Drack huffs, shoving past Reyes.

Reyes follows after him, along with Liam and Vetra.

They make it out of the cave, heading toward the Nomad where Peebee waits.

“I thought you were going to hold him?” Drack grunts.

“He’s slippery,” Peebee says. “How’s Ryder?”

“Bad,” is all the krogan says.

Reyes’ knees shake. _He’s bad, but he’s not dead. Not yet._

He’s alive.

 _Alive_.

“I’m coming with you,” he says.

“You’re not,” Liam says, glaring at him. “This is your fault.”

He flinches, unable to stop himself. Even so, he glares right back. “I’m coming with you,” he repeats firmly.

Peebee shrugs. “Let him come.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Liam says. “But I’m watching you.”

Reyes climbs into the Nomad. With so many of them in the vehicle, it’s rather cramped, and Scott has to be held over them as Vetra drives. Scott’s head rests in Reyes’ lap, while the bulk of his weight is on Drack, his feet on Liam. Liam hands over a pack of medi-gel.

“More can’t hurt,” he says.

Reyes injects the life-saving serum, cradling Scott’s head in his lap. His red-stained fingers stroke through Scott’s sweaty hair. This close, he can hear the raspy breaths he couldn’t before; Scott’s alive. They got him breathing again. He’s alive.

 _They’ll save him._ He’s their Pathfinder; they have to save him.

A part of him registers all the negative looks thrown his way, and he knows he is only a hindrance when it comes to helping Scott. He knows he should leave. But he can’t. Not until he knows Scott is _safe_. Not until he opens his eyes and tells Reyes to leave himself.

 _“You’re stuck with me,”_ Scott told him.

His fingers curl more into the Pathfinder’s slick hair. He forces his digits to relax so he doesn’t tug at the strands too harshly. _Let me be stuck with you. You have to stay._

_“I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”_

He exhales slowly, eyes falling shut. _I don’t want you to._

 _“His death is on_ your _hands.”_

His fingers curl again. _I am so sorry, Scott. This is all my fault._

Scott shouldn’t have to take the brunt of the damage, the fallout for Reyes’ mistakes. He shouldn’t have to pay for Reyes’ sins.

They have to save him.

They need him alive.

Reyes needs him alive.

xXx

He’s kept out of the med bay, left to sit in the kitchen of the tempest, nursing a cup of coffee he’s uninterested in, as he stares down at the smooth surface of the table. Just around the corner is Scott’s room; he’d find more privacy there, but he can’t make himself go there, not right now. Not while Scott’s… out of commission.

It’s been several hours, and still there is no word on the Pathfinder’s condition. Stable, failing, alive, dead… Reyes knows nothing. The crew blames him for what happened, as they rightfully should. This is all his fault. He should leave, but he can’t. Because some time ago Scott said he was stuck with him, and some tiny part of Reyes clings to that, and there’s no way he can leave. He can’t just walk away.

Even if the crew keeps throwing him glances.

None of them are entirely sure what happened; they just know Sloane took Scott with her, and he was shot. Then when they got there, Reyes was there and Sloane was dead on the ground. They don’t know what happened, but they do know Reyes wasn’t even supposed to be there, so his presence leaves them uneasy.

He understands, of course. He’s an unknown, and a smuggler. He’s a criminal, and Scott was shot, and they’re blaming him. They’re perfectly right to – it’s his fault. All of this is his fault.

He should have told Scott right from the start.

He shouldn’t have gotten so attached.

Because he forgot about that little detail. He forgot that when you care about someone, they can easily be used against you by your enemies. Up until now, Reyes had few enemies. He was just a smuggler; other smugglers apparently disliked him, enough that they put a group together to kill him, with Zia’s help, but other than that, he had no real enemies that personally had it out for him. Zia tried to use Scott against him, and now Sloane had, too.

That’s on him. That’s _his_ fault. He forgot that important detail.

If he’s going to be the Charlatan, and step out of the shadows now that he has Kadara Port… then more will come after Scott because they know he’s connected to Reyes. They’ll hurt Scott to get to him, and that… is not something Reyes can live with.

His only options are to walk away once he knows Scott is okay, or stop being the Charlatan and pass his legacy over to someone else.

He’s worked so hard for this day – for the day he can step out of the shadows and be free from underfoot, finally. At long last, this day has come. Sloane Kelly is dead, and he has Kadara Port. All he has to do is claim it. All he has to do is reveal himself as Charlatan.

He’s wanted this day for a long time. Centuries.

But suddenly, the thought leaves him empty. What good is a title and a land to call your own, if you have no one to share it with? He’d much rather wake up every morning to someone making him coffee, than to wake up alone for a new day of fighting.

He’s not sure when his core changed and realigned itself like that, when Scott got so under his skin, but it happened and Scott’s there to stay, now.

Just as long as he _does_ stay.

Reyes, at this point, doesn’t even know if he’s still alive, or if he died and no one has made it out to tell him yet. Will they greet him with a firing squad? He won’t blame them if they do; he deserves nothing less.

He pushes to his feet, knees knocking against the table, nearly knocking his barely touched coffee over. He steps out of the kitchen and peeks around the corner, but the hallways are empty and silent. The whole ship is so still and quiet, holding its breath as it waits for its Pathfinder. Reyes makes his way down toward med-bay, aware that his presence will be unwanted, but needing to be there anyway. He’s been away long enough.

He needs an update. He needs news. He needs to see Scott.

The seal on the door is red-tinged, and doesn’t open. He’s locked out. He rests his palm flat against the door, swallowing thickly. He can’t hear anything inside.

“SAM?” he croaks, clearing his throat. “SAM.”

**_“I am here.”_ **

A shiver flits down his spine. “Where were you?” _Where were you when I needed you?_

SAM just left him alone in that cave. He just stopped talking, seemingly vanished, while Scott lay dying on the floor.

 ** _“I apologize,”_** SAM says. **_“I had to focus on Scott, and stemming the flow as best as I could, to buy him more time. I apologize for not answering you.”_**

Reyes sighs heavily. “No, you were right – Scott’s the priority.”

**_“Indeed.”_ **

“Do you… know anything? How is he?”

He can’t bring himself to ask if he’s still alive. His eyes close, his palm still flat against the door.

 ** _“Dr. T’Perro has stabilized him,”_** the AI tells him.

Which means he’s alive. Reyes’ shoulders slouch.

The door flashes green, and slides open so suddenly he’s left staggering as he enters the room. Dr. Lexi T’Perro looks up from one of the bio beds and blinks at him. Then she offers a tired smile. Her uniform is coated in red, and he tries not to think about why.

“I forgot you were here,” she tells him quietly. Her body blocks the view of Scott, save for his legs, covered with a thin, white blanket. Reyes stays just inside the doorway, uncertain if he should leave or move closer, torn either way.

“Who let him in?” someone asks from the other side of the room, and Reyes whips around to find Cora glaring at him. “I don’t know what you did,” she says, “but I know this is somehow your fault.”

His shoulders droop more. “It is,” he says. _It’s all my fault._

“How did you get in?” Cora asks, pushing away from the counter she previously leaned against, nursing a cup of something. Probably not coffee, considering Reyes has been alone in the kitchen, unless she has her own coffee maker elsewhere, which is entirely possible.

 ** _“I let him in,”_** SAM says.

Reyes blinks. _Why would you do that?_

“Why?” Cora asks, echoing his thoughts.

 ** _“Because he needs to be here.”_** SAM says it so simply.

“He doesn’t,” the biotic woman argues.

“I’m just here to check on Scott,” Reyes says, sighing.

“He’s stable, no thanks to you.”

He bristles. “I _know_.”

“Oh, do you?” Cora steps toward him. “What do you _know_ about what happened? What did you do?”

“Guys, please,” Dr. T’Perro says, stepping between them. Reyes didn’t even notice her moving. “Don’t argue here. He’s unconscious, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hear you. If you’re going to argue, I must insist you do it somewhere else, and let my patient rest.”

Reyes exhales loudly. Cora glares at him, before she pushes past him to leave the room.

“Don’t hurt him more,” she throws over her shoulder, before the door closes behind her.

 _I won’t,_ he wants to say, needs to say – but the words get trapped in his throat as he looks across the room at Scott. He’s moving before he knows what he’s doing, and suddenly he’s right next to the bed, looking down at the pale form. He’s too pale, lips tinged blue, dark rings around his closed, sunken eyes. There’s a little hitch in his breath every few seconds, a line of pain drawn tight between his eyes.

“He’s in pain,” he says without meaning to.

 ** _“The pain is a good sign,”_** SAM tells him.

“He shouldn’t be in pain.”

“It’s a necessary evil,” Dr. T’Perro says from just behind him. “If we give him more for it, it might push him too far under, and his system is too fragile right now. We just got him stabilized. He’s in pain, but a little pain is better than a complete system shutdown. It’s unfortunate, but necessary.”

_I’m so sorry. This is my fault. It should be me._

It should be him lying there, pale and broken in that bed. Him, not Scott. It was his plan, his failure, his everything. It should be him.

_It’s not fair._

Life isn’t fair, though. Life’s never been fair. Why would now be any different? Now, when he has something to lose?

“I’ll give you some space, if you’d like,” the doctor suggests.

His eyebrows raise. “You trust me alone with him? I thought you all hated me.”

They’re right to hate him.

He kind of hates himself.

There’s no ‘kind of’ about it.

His quest for power, to _be someone_ , very nearly cost him the thing he didn’t know he needed so badly. In all his thoughts of the future – he never imagined he’d meet someone like Scott Ryder. He never imagined anyone could ever care for him just as he was. He never imagined how it would feel when it was all taken away.

He never imagined, not for even a single second, what it would be like to want something for someone else more than he’d ever wanted anything for himself.

“We don’t hate you,” Dr. T’Perro tells him, a hand on his shoulder. “We’re all just confused. We don’t entirely know what happened. Ryder told us only the bare minimum before he left with Sloane Kelly. She barely gave him time to grab his armor. We told him not to leave… but he is stubborn.”

Reyes nods, still looking down at the broken Pathfinder. “Yeah… he is.”

Scott Ryder is a stubborn man, but maybe it’s his stubbornness that keeps him alive.

“You’d leave me with him?” he asks the doctor. Everyone else here seems to hate him, and doesn’t trust him at all. They think this is all his fault, and they’re absolutely right.

“It’s my job to help people,” she says. “SAM had the right idea. You need to be here, just as much as he needs you to be here. So I’ll give you some privacy, but then you’ll have to leave. Doctor’s orders.”

He exhales loudly, and nods even as he thinks, _I’d like to see you try to make me._

He’s not leaving.

He decided that somewhere between the door and here. Everything here might hate him and blame him – _Scott_ might hate him – but he’s not going anywhere, because Scott said he was stuck with him and he’s going to prove him right.

Dr. T’Perro leaves the room. The door slides shut quietly behind her. There’s a chair on the other side of the bed; Reyes rounds the bed to collapse heavily into it, watching Scott’s chest rise and fall in a jerky rhythm all the while. He’s stable, but nowhere near out of the woods just yet. Any number of things could go wrong and he could take a dark turn. He could still very well die.

_No._

Reyes won’t let him die. He’s the Charlatan; he’ll get him whatever he needs.

His fingers find Scott’s, above the thin white blanket. He squeezes the cold fingers. “Hey, you…”

If Scott hears him, he gives no indication.

Reyes sighs. He’s not sure why he’s talking to him; it’s not like Scott can really hear him. Dr. T’Perro just said that to make them stop arguing. Even so…

“I’m so _sorry_ ,” he says quietly, squeezing those fingers again. They’re so limp in his grasp. He needs to wash himself off; his fingers are still stained red. At least the blood has been washed away from Scott’s face and everything; he looks well cared for, just as he should be. Now he just needs to get better and wake up. “I never wanted you to find out like this. I was going to tell you everything myself, just as soon as this was finished. I didn’t know Sloane would bring you. I didn’t know you were back on Kadara already. I’m sorry. This is… This is _my_ fault.”

He doesn’t mean to speak to Scott like the Pathfinder can hear him, but once he starts, the words just come tumbling out and he can’t seem to stop.

They’re words he needs to say, words Scott needs to hear, and at least he’s said them, even if Scott can’t really hear him, or even if he won’t remember any of this when he wakes up.

“You have… a protective crew, did you know that? They nearly ripped my head off. I’m surprised they haven’t tossed me off the ship yet. I imagine they will soon. But I’ll stay as long as I can. They’ll have to physically drag me away from you.”

He sighs, using his free hand to drag it through his hair. He imagines he looks quite the mess, but he doesn’t really care at this point.

“Look, I… I’m _sorry_. You must hate me right now, and I can’t say I blame you. But I didn’t lie to you about everything, Scott. You have to believe that.” He bites down on his lower lip, searching for the words. “You have to know I _do_ care about you. I never once lied about any of that. I just… didn’t tell you everything. I withheld information, but I never outright lied. I know – a lie of omission is still a lie. And I’m sorry. It was never my intention to… I never wanted things to go this way. If I could take it back…”

If he could do this whole thing over again, he would in a heartbeat. He’d tell Scott from the beginning; he might be angry with him for keeping it from him for even a short time, but at least he’d be safe now. He wouldn’t be an inch from death’s door, clinging to life in the _Tempest’s_ med-bay. Maybe he wouldn’t accept a relationship with Reyes after he learned the truth, but at least he’d be _alive_. He’d be okay.

And Reyes wouldn’t have this hole in his heart in the shape of a certain human Pathfinder.

“I never meant for any of this. If you hate me, and want to leave… then I guess you’re better off, without me. I told you right from the start, you foolish… _fool_.” His pulse increases, the despair of the last several hours getting to him. “I told you what I was. I’m no good for you. _Why did you stay._ ”

Reyes is no good for him; he’ll never be any good to him. He’s a bad man, a criminal, a smuggler, the Charlatan. Scott deserves better.

He wanted to be better. He tried to better himself, to become the man Scott deserved, but in the end… he’ll never be more than he is.

“Why did you stay…”

He looks away from Scott, then, to focus instead on the ground, but keeps his fingers wrapped tightly around the Pathfinder’s.

 ** _“Scott cares about you, deeply,”_** SAM says quite suddenly, leaving him jerking in surprise. **_“It was hard for him to accept that he cares, because he thought he didn’t deserve it. He thought he could not afford the ‘distraction’. But in the end, it helped him, to care about you. You helped him. Thank you.”_**

Reyes exhales sharply, closing his eyes tightly. Hearing how much Scott cares about him feels like cheating, since it’s coming from the AI inside his head, but nevertheless – it fills him with warmth, and a burning heat he can’t control. Anger. He’s angry. He so angry.

He’s glad Sloane’s dead, because if she was still alive… he would enjoy torturing her for hours on end. Days on end. A lifetime. She’d beg to die by the time he was finished with her.

Because she nearly took away the only person who has ever cared about Reyes like this. And for that, there is no forgiveness, there is no remorse, there is no hesitation.

She’s lucky she’s already dead.

“I care about him, too,” Reyes tells the AI, voice quiet in the med-bay, broken only by the monitors attached to Scott, and the Pathfinder’s ragged breathing. He squeezes those fingers again, and opens his eyes to look back at Scott’s pale face, and the breathing mask over blue-tinged lips. “A lot.”

The door opens behind him with a quiet whir. He stiffens, looking up and across the room as Peebee walks toward the bed, instead of Dr. T’Perro.

“I heard you,” she says, quirking a brow at him. Reyes is too tired to feel embarrassed that someone heard him admit to such feeling. “You love him?”

He releases a slow breath. That’s a difficult question to answer. What is love? Is it this breathless feeling whenever he looks at Scott? Is he capable of love? Can bad men fall in love? It’s a complicated question he’s not nearly prepared to answer, yet Peebee asks it so simply.

“It’s not that hard,” she says, staring at him, arms folded across her chest. “It’s a simple yes or no answer. Do you love him?”

He looks back down at Scott, listening to his shaky breaths rattle in his chest before they come out, and he closes his eyes, free hand fisting in his lap.

“See, I think you do,” she continues, standing on the other side of the bed. “Or you wouldn’t be here right now, and you wouldn’t look so shitty. Seriously, clean yourself up – wearing someone else’s blood isn’t as fashionable as you think.”

He blinks at her, aware he still bears the red smears of blood. Washing it away means to forget this experience, and he can’t forget. He can’t wipe it from his memory as easily as wiping it from his skin. He needs the red on him as a reminder of what he did – a reminder of his absolute failure. A reminder that this is _all his fault_.

“Ryder’s tough,” Peebee says, shrugging. “He’ll pull through. But he won’t like it if you’re wearing his blood when he wakes up.”

“You act as if they’ll permit me to be here when he wakes up,” Reyes says, almost bitterly.

“They’re just worried, and angry. This shouldn’t have happened, and we’re still not entirely clear on _what_ happened. You know, don’t you?” Her green eyes narrow. “But you won’t say a thing. Why is that?”

He opens his mouth to answer, and then… can’t. He doesn’t know the answer anymore.

He kept quiet, at first, because there was no time to answer when they were struggling to keep Scott alive. Then, they abandoned him once they boarded the _Tempest_ , and told him to stay out of the way. So he did. People have hinted that they want an explanation, but only Peebee has come right out and _asked_.

A part of him still wants the secret to last; he can’t tell them until he can discuss it with Scott first. He’s too used to keeping secrets, that just telling them what happened seems… _wrong_. Especially when Scott’s not even awake to hear him.

He looks away.

She sighs heavily. “You’re a hard guy to like, you know that? But obviously Ryder sees _something_ in you.”

“Do you have a point, in all of this?” Reyes snaps, growing tired of her comments.

“I just wanted to see for myself if you cared about him,” she says, shrugging, like it’s so simple. Maybe to her, it is. “You do, and you clearly didn’t mean for this to happen, whatever it was… so I guess I’ll forgive you.”

“ _Oh_?”

“Mm, yeah. But don’t make me regret it. And if Ryder dies, I’ll have to join the others in killing you.” She smiles so sweetly. “See ya.”

She leaves as suddenly as she came, and Reyes is left staring after her.

“The friends you make,” he whispers, lifting the Pathfinder’s hand to press a soft kiss against his knuckles. “Wake up soon… Sweetheart.”


	15. I Was Yours and You Were Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott has a lot to think about, if he could just stay awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title comes from "Too Late to Say Goodbye" by Cage the Elephant. 
> 
> I could end this story here xD Hmm. We'll see.
> 
> Alternative title for this chapter: "Shouldn't Have Stood that Close to the Fire".
> 
> As always, comments are love <3

_ Chapter Fifteen: I Was Yours and You Were Mine _

 

Scott drifts.

For a long time, he’s in a haze of black and white, of real and unreal, of the past and the present; he drifts. There’s nothing substantial – cliffs give way beneath his failing grasp, crumbling like worlds shattered, and as he sinks below a wavy surface of thoughts and not-thoughts, of feelings and illusions, he can’t help but wonder if he’ll ever get out of here.

He drifts.

In and out – a hazy voice here and there, pain somewhere in his chest, then nothing. His mind is dark and bright all at once; he cowers from it as though he can escape himself.

He drifts.

There’s a voice which should be present – a voice in his head. Sometimes he hears flickers; most of the time he’s drifting alone.

He drifts, and drifts.

 ** _I am here, Scott,_** the voice says sometime later, when he’s uncertain if he can hold himself above the surface any longer. **_You are not alone. You are doing well. Do not give in._**

He’s drifting, and beyond the dark haze of perpetual confusion, there’s this sense of _fatigue_. He’s so _tired_.

**_I know you are tired. However, you must wake soon. Dr. T’Perro grows concerned about brain damage._ **

_Brain… damage?_ It’s all he can send through the haze that is his mind.

**_You were clinically dead for a collective total of 102.4 seconds._ **

_Collective total?_

**_You died twice while Dr. T’Perro worked on you, and you stopped breathing before you were returned to the_ ** _Tempest **, as well.**_

_Well… shit._ He’s still alive, though. He can feel that much, and despite the fog in his mind he knows that SAM wouldn’t be speaking to him unless he was alive. _What happened?_

**_You were shot in the chest by Sloane Kelly. Do you remember?_ **

He tries. He knows Sloane hates him. But right now… all the flickers of images in his mind makes him disorientated, and he stops trying.

SAM doesn’t speak again.

Scott drifts.

xXx

There’s a foul taste in his mouth – metallic, rusty, stale. His mouth is so dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of it.

Someone’s talking above him – heated voices raised, an argument.

He’s okay with fading out again.

xXx

There are fingers in his hair, brushing lightly through the strands.

Warmth on his cheek.

A smooth voice in his ear.

He tries to cling to the moment – tries to stay here and now.

He drifts away again.

xXx

There’s a dull ache in his head.

His mouth is _so_ dry. It’s an effort to force his tongue from the roof of it.

His fingers twitch – his brows furrow. There’s pain… somewhere. It’s hard to pinpoint through the haze in his mind. He’s floating, but not drifting. Not yet.

“That’s it,” a voice coaxes gently, “rise and shine, Sweetheart.”

 _Sweetheart_.

He struggles to open his eyes, exhaling shakily. It’s a little hard to breathe; his heart is racing. Fingers entwine with his own, and there’s a hand on his cheek, warm and soothing.

“Come on,” the voice continues, “wake up. You’ve slept enough.”

 ** _I can offer my assistance, if you wish,_** SAM says, startling him. He’d flinch if his body was capable of movement right now. As it is, his eyelids twitch and his fingers curl against those holding him.

_SAM? What happened?_

**_You were shot,_** the AI tells him robotically. **_You died twice. You still have shrapnel in your chest Dr. T’Perro was unsuccessful in removing; it’s too close to your heart, and you were in a severely weakened state. You’ve been unconscious for several days._**

_Shit. Okay. Sloane, right? She shot me? I think I remember something about that…_

**_Yes. Sloane Kelly shot you in the chest. Your team brought you here, along with Mr. Vidal._ **

_Reyes,_ the name flashes through his mind, bright and warm and… painful. There’s something. Something along the edge of his thoughts. _Did I make him angry? What happened?_ He can’t remember. Why can’t he remember?

 ** _You suffered a traumatic event,_** SAM says. **_Give your body time to heal properly, and the memories will come. No, you did not make Mr. Vidal angry, that I am aware of. He’s been by your side for the duration of your unconsciousness._**

That’s… thoughtful, of him.

The fingers around his own squeeze. “Scott?”

 _Reyes._ That’s Reyes’ voice. He’s here with Scott.

_Help me wake up, SAM._

**_Yes, Pathfinder._ **

There’s a surge of awareness that courses through him, pushing away the haze in his mind like a harsh breeze clearing the leaves. His heavy eyelids twitch open, before they immediately shut as light fills his vision.

“That’s it,” Reyes urges, “you’re doing well. Wake up. Come on.”

“Is he finally waking?” another voice, in contrast with Reyes’.

“I think so,” Reyes says.

“I’ll tell Lexi.”

“C’mon, Scott. Open those eyes.”

He does. The lights are dimmed a little – either because of Reyes or SAM, or a combination of both, he’s not sure. But they’re not as bright and he’s grateful for that. At first he just stares up at the ceiling, struggling to focus his vision. Then he glances over toward the voice, and there’s Reyes, smiling down at him. He looks terrible and beautiful all at once. There are dark rings around his eyes, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days, his normally slicked back hair sticking up in random places – but it’s Reyes, and it’s always nice to see him.

“Hey…” Scott mumbles. It comes out breathy and shaky as he struggles to use his neglected vocal chords. Clearing his throat does little to help him.

Reyes’ fingers crush his in a death grip. SAM soothes the pain from his mind, allowing the grip to continue. It only lasts a few seconds before Reyes seems to realize what he’s doing, and relaxes his hold, though his fingers are still tight around Scott’s own. There’s a shine to those golden brown eyes. “Hey, yourself,” the smuggler replies finally, his voice just as fragile as Scott’s. Except when he clears his throat, it actually works for him, and his voice is stronger. “How do you feel?”

“Sleepy,” Scott replies, fighting back a yawn. “What… happened? I was shot?” It’s gradually getting easier to talk, either because he’s getting used to using his vocal chords again, or because SAM is helping him. He’s not sure which, and it doesn’t really matter right now. “I think… a cave?”

He remembers a cave. He hates caves. He’s so tired of caves. Why did he go in there?

Sloane. Sloane invited him.

And then it all comes crashing back into him, and he jerks his hand away from Reyes’, staring at him. The hurt which flashes across the smuggler’s face is almost too much. “You’re the Charlatan,” he mutters, looking away from the shiny brown eyes. If he keeps looking at him, he’ll give in, and right now there’s fresh anger flooding through him. _You didn’t trust me enough to tell me._

“Scott,” Reyes breathes, fingers brushing against his hand again. Scott pulls away. “I’m _sorry_. I’m so sorry. I wanted-”

The doors open, and in walks Lexi, Liam and Cora. Scott focuses on them because it’s easier than hearing the despair in Reyes’ voice.

“Good, you’re awake,” Lexi says, approaching the bed.

They all crowd around it, and Reyes is pushed to the sidelines.

“How are you feeling?” Liam asks.

“Tired,” Scott says.

“That’s understandable,” Lexi tells him, running her omni-tool over him, checking his vitals. “You appear to have made it through the worst of it. How’s your chest feel?”

“… Tight?” It’s a little painful, but he must be on some good meds because he’s still kind of floating.

Lexi nods, the orange glow of her omni-tool dispersing. “All things considered, you are doing remarkably well.”

“That’s… good,” Scott says, looking from Lexi to Liam and Cora, and finally over to Reyes.

Except the smuggler isn’t there anymore. He blinks at the empty space, hurt flooding through him, and it must show on his face because Cora actually _growls_ , and stomps off with a quick, “Shady bastard.”

“Don’t be too hard on him,” Lexi says, dragging Scott’s focus back to her. “He’s been worried sick about you, wouldn’t leave your side even when Cora threatened him. Drack had to physically remove him at one point, and he snuck back in later.”

That…

_Hmm._

He wasn’t expecting that. Reyes is worried about him. But Reyes _lied_ to him, was just using him those whole time, and-

“You need to remain calm,” Lexi says, narrowing her eyes at him as his heartrate spikes. “You’re still in a fragile state, and I don’t want you to have a relapse.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, I’ve seen fine,” Liam says, shaking his head, “and you’re not it.”

“Traitor,” Scott hisses.

Liam smirks at him.

“So,” he sighs, relaxing into his pillows, “what’d I miss?”

“Nothing major has happened in your absence,” Lexi assures him.

“We were kind of wondering if you could fill us in on what happened, though,” Liam says.

Scott frowns. “What do you mean?”

“We’re not sure what happened,” Lexi says.

“Both your AI and Reyes are being remarkably tight-lipped about it.”

_SAM?_

**_I thought it best to let you tell the story at your own pace, rather than cast suspicions on Mr. Vidal. It is clear you have mixed feelings regarding him, and I did not wish to interfere._ **

That’s… oddly touching, actually. _Thanks, SAM._

He does have mixed feelings when it concerns Reyes. He still cares about him, but to think the whole thing was just one big lie… that Reyes never really cared about him, he was just using him to manipulate him as the Charlatan…

It hurts.

It hurts more than the bullet to the chest ever did.

“So, what happened?” Liam asks, folding his arms over his chest.

_What happened? I trusted Reyes, and he was just using me the whole time. None of it was real. That’s what happened._

**_I do not think that is what happened. Mr. Vidal was quite upset while you were unconscious._ **

_Maybe he feels guilty. Doesn’t mean he cares._

Scott sighs, looking away. “Can we talk about it later? I… don’t want to think about it right now.”

He’s not looking at the two of them, but he can _feel_ their gazes.

“Of course,” Liam says. “You just rest up and get better, and we’ll talk about it later.”

“Thanks…”

Liam leaves, and Lexi runs a few quick tests. He’s poked and prodded, and he can’t help but think that Reyes just _left_ him here, after supposedly staying with him this whole time. Perhaps it’s because Scott pulled away from him; but he has every right to be wary of him, right? After how he lied, and what happened.

_Why did Sloane shoot me?_

He wasn’t part of the duel. She invited him to it, to back her up. True, he was conflicted when it was revealed Reyes was the Charlatan… but that doesn’t mean he would have interfered in the duel. So why did she shoot him?

Is she dead? What happened after he was shot? It’s all a giant blur. He barely remembers being shot at all; it just felt like a quick punch to the chest. It happened so fast.

“I’m going to give you some antibiotics, and something for the pain,” Lexi says, pulling out a syringe. Scott winces. He hates shots. “It will make you sleepy. Don’t fight it, you need the rest.”

“I’ve been sleeping for days.”

“It wasn’t particularly restful.”

Scott sighs and nods.

She pushes the needle into his arm, and injects the medicine.

“How fast does-?” he trails off, seeing stars behind his eyes. It’s hard to keep his eyelids open.

Lexi chuckles faintly. “Sleep well, Ryder.”

He exhales on a sigh, and his eyes fall closed.

He has time for one last, fuzzy thought of _where’s Reyes_ , then there’s a darkness he doesn’t fight.

xXx

There’s a reason Scott and sleep don’t get along very well, and he tends to boycott it for days on end. There’s a reason his best friend is coffee, and long bouts of exercising or otherwise completely exhausting himself.

It’s because of _dreams_. Nightmares.

The almighty human Pathfinder, taken out by nightmares. That’s how he’ll be remembered – a scared little boy afraid to sleep in his own bed.

Sedatives don’t help matters, either. He either dreams of fire and darkness, and wakes with a headache – or he dreams of things all too real, things he can’t wake up from because he’s been medicinally knocked out.

That’s why he likes to tire himself out naturally – his brain becomes too tired to dream. There’s just darkness until he wakes.

Now, there’s nightmares.

They start out normal enough – he’s alone on Kadara. It’s hot and dark, despite the evening sunset. He’s sweating, but it’s a cold sweat despite the heat. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end. He’s running.

Then Sloane Kelly laughs at him, and there’s a punch to his chest.

Reyes stands over him. “How pitiful,” he sniffs, turning away from the fallen Pathfinder.

There’s a sob lodged somewhere in Scott’s throat.

He dies choking on words he’ll never say.

The crew of the _Tempest_ are better off without him. They don’t even mourn him.

Cora becomes Pathfinder, and excels in ways Scott never could. She’s confident and head-strong and everything he’s not.

She defeats the Archon and finds humanity a home within the week, and everyone cheers her success. No one mourns Scott.

Instead they say things like, “How great that he’s gone! He was a terrible Pathfinder.”

They say things like, “Good riddance.”

“No one will miss that nuisance.”

“No one cared about him.”

“What do you think, SAM? Aren’t you happier with Cora?”

**_“I am happy with Cora.”_ **

He never said he was happy with Scott; only that he was content. It’s another punch to the chest, a dagger to his heart, and he spirals in a darkness he can’t control, aching to break free and fill aching lungs with air. He’s drowning in a sea of _nothing_ , because _he_ is nothing, and _please let me wake up…_

They bury Scott’s body on some random desert planet. There’s no tombstone, just disturbed dirt above him. He’s trapped in his coffin, screaming, as the wood gives way and particles of dirt filter in, suffocating him. He’s drowning. Drowning.

He’s suffocating alone in the darkness, and absolutely no one cares.

xXx

Scott wakes with a choked gasp of air, cold sweat dripping down his face. His pulse is racing, his breaths these shaky, staggered things. He’s alone in the dark and for just a brief second he thinks he’s still trapped beneath the surface, drowning, drowning, drown-

A hand grips his, firmly. He startles, unaware anyone was asleep in the chair next to him, out of sight, until then. Reyes sits up, frowning down at him, looking briefly toward the monitors screeching about Scott’s elevated heartrate.

“I’ll get T’Perro,” Reyes says, standing quickly.

Scott clings to his hand, dragging him back toward the bed when he tries to step away. “No,” he gasps, still struggling to regulate his breathing. He shakes his head at Reyes’ inquisitive stare. “No. I’m… I’m okay.”

“This doesn’t _look_ okay,” Reyes tells him, frowning deeply in the low light of the med-bay. He gently pries Scott’s fingers away from his. “Your heart’s racing; I’ll get the doctor.”

“Stay,” Scott says quietly, when Reyes moves to step away. The smuggler freezes, gaze locked on the ground. Scott’s fingers brush against his wrist, curling lightly around it. “Just… stay.”

“I thought you hated me,” Reyes murmurs in a voice that doesn’t sound like him.

For a brief moment, Scott wonders if he’s still dreaming. “I don’t hate you,” he tells the smuggler, gently pulling at his wrist. “Sit down.”

Reyes sits on the edge of the bed, body facing away from him, gaze still lowered to the ground. His spine is tense and rigid, shoulders firmly set as he seems to hunch in on himself, making himself smaller. “You should hate me,” Reyes tells him.

“I should,” Scott agrees quietly, watching Reyes flinch. “You lied to me the whole time. Was any of it real?”

“I never lied about us,” Reyes says firmly. “I only withheld… my identity. I wanted to tell you. I mean to, as soon as I… dealt with Sloane.”

“She’s dead, right?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“You thought she still lived, after what she did to you?”

Scott shrugs, looking away, though it doesn’t really matter because Reyes still isn’t looking at him. “I don’t know. I don’t really remember anything after I got shot. Did you kill her?”

“No,” Reyes mutters. “But I wish I would have.”

“Then who…?”

“I had a sniper.”

“… You never meant to have a fair duel, did you?”

“I’m a _criminal_ ,” Reyes snaps.

Scott flinches at the sudden raised voice, and glances over to find Reyes glaring at him.

“I keep _telling_ you I’m _no good for you_. I’m a bad man. I’m a smuggler, a criminal, the _Charlatan_. Of course I had everything planned out! Everything except for _you_.”

“So it’s my fault?” Scott asks, narrowing his eyes at him.

Reyes growls, actually _growls_. “ _No_. I never expected Sloane would bring you with her; I never expected her to _trust_ you like that. I should have anticipated… but I didn’t even know you were on-planet.”

Scott winces. “I wanted to surprise you…”

The laugh Reyes releases is more raw and broken than anything else. “Yes, well… _surprise_ me you did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Reyes says, watching him carefully. “This is _my_ fault, Scott. I should be… I’m so _sorry_. I never meant for any of this to happen. I care about you – that was _never_ a lie. I just never told you who I really was… because I liked the way you looked at me, like I _mattered_ … and I didn’t want that to change.” The smuggler looks away, as though ashamed of his own words.

Scott stares at him for a long moment.

Reyes Vidal is a smuggler. A criminal.

He’s the Charlatan, the leader of the Collective.

He challenged Sloane Kelly to a duel he never intended on losing.

Scott paid the price for his arrogance.

He’s right; Scott _should_ hate him. He should hate him for the lies and the secrets and the fact it got him shot and nearly killed. He should hate him for challenging someone to a duel and not fighting fairly. He should hate him for attacking Kaetus, whose only real crime was that he was loyal and close to Sloane Kelly. He should hate him for making Scott feel this way.

He should hate him for so many reasons…

But he doesn’t.

Because at the end of the day, he still cares too much about a smug smuggler named Reyes Vidal.

His fingers find Reyes’. Golden brown eyes lift toward his, a glimmer of hope shimmering in the sunset pools.

Scott smiles tiredly. “Nothing’s changed.”

And then Reyes is on him, his mouth hot and fierce against Scott’s own. There’s a little pain was Reyes’ hand presses down on his chest as the smuggler leverages himself above him, but it quickly disappears and he knows SAM is helping him.

“You have terrible taste in men,” Reyes breathes into his ear, nipping lightly at the lobe.

Scott shivers. “The worst,” he agrees.

“You should hate me.”

“I don’t. I never could.”

Another nip. “I’m no good for you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Reyes exhales shakily. “I’ll ruin you.”

“Then you’ll just have to put me back together,” Scott says.

Reyes sighs. “That was a horrible joke. You’re so cheesy.” His lips find Scott’s again. “I like cheesy.”

“I hope you’re not lactose-intolerant.”

The smuggler snorts, nipping lightly at Scott’s lower lip. “You are the _worst_.”

Scott laughs breathily, fingers curling in Reyes’ hair, tugging his head closer as they kiss again.

“Achem.”

The sudden voice startles them both. They both go completely still, staring at each other, Reyes above and Scott below, and then Reyes glances over and smiles.

“Ah. Dr. T’Perro. I was just coming to find you,” he says.

“Uh huh,” Lexi says. Scott can’t see through Reyes, but he can picture her raised brow. “And was that before or after you molested my patient?”

“Why, you wound me!” Reyes says. “Scott was cold. I was simply warming him up. I am an excellent blanket, you know.”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s true,” Scott says.

“Oh, so you’re alive under there, are you?”

“Uh, well… I mean… not for long, I’m guessing,” Scott says, smirking. “Reyes, don’t move. She’ll kill me if you do.”

“I would never let that happen,” Reyes says, smiling at him. He gives him one last peck on the tip of the nose, and then climbs off the bed to sit in the chair at Scott’s side. Scott immediately misses the warmth.

Lexi approaches the bed, giving Scott the _look_. Scott gulps. She’s going to kill him. He survived being shot but his doctor is going to murder him.

“Relax,” Lexi says. “I don’t have any needles today.”

“ _Today_ ,” Scott mocks. “What about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is a new day. How are you feeling? Better, I assume, considering the position I found you in.”

Scott looks up at the ceiling, counting to three in his head before he releases a slow breath. “Yeah, well… I’m fine.”

“I agree with Liam,” Lexi tells him. “I am going to invest in a dictionary for you, because I don’t think you quite know the meaning of the word.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Scott says. “Dandy. Great. Fantastic.”

“Then why was I alerted to your elevated heartrate?”

“Reyes was talking dirty to me,” Scott says, feeling his cheeks flush even as he says the words, but somehow that’s better than admitting to his nightmares.

He should be over them. He’s been Pathfinder for almost a year now. He should be better.

He’s not.

Lexi quirks a brow, glancing at Reyes.

Reyes shrugs, smirking. “I’m just that good.” He winks at Scott.

She sighs. “Alright. But please keep in mind he’s wounded, and an elevated heartrate is not good for him right now. No strenuous activity or I’m throwing you off the ship with or without the Pathfinder’s approval. Are we clear?”

Reyes nods. “Of course, doctor.”

“Good.” She looks back at Scott. “Are you in any pain?”

“It’s just kinda tight,” Scott says with a small shrug. “Not really pain right now.”

“Good, the painkillers are still in your system, at least.” The orange glow of her omni-tool flickers into existence, and she waves it over him, scanning him. “The shrapnel is still in your chest, have they told you?”

“SAM did,” Scott says. “Is that a problem?”

“It’s remarkably close to your heart. Removing it could nick the artery. Leaving it could do the same.”

“So… I’m screwed either way?” His nose wrinkles. _That sucks._

“When you are stronger, and your vitals are back to normal, we can attempt to remove the shrapnel,” Lexi tells him, the orange glow dispersing as she lowers her arm. “Would you like to know the extent of your injuries?”

He notices Reyes stiffen next to him, out of his peripheral vision. He smiles at Lexi. “That’s okay. I can read about it later.”

Reyes relaxes, minutely.

“Very well. I recommend more rest, but I know how unwilling you are when it comes to sleep. Would you like another sedative?”

“No,” Scott says, a little too quickly.

She nods. “Very well.” Her gaze goes once again to Reyes. “Keep him in bed, and make sure he rests.”

“I will.”

Somehow, Scott’s sure Reyes _will_ do as she says.

He sighs. “I’m right here, you know. You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not in the room.”

“I’d talk to _you_ about it if you’d actually listen to me,” Lexi says. “We both know you don’t.”

“I listen to you all the time.”

“But does any of it sink in?”

He keeps silent. She smirks faintly.

“Exactly. Get some rest, Ryder.”

She leaves the room, and Scott sighs and looks back over at Reyes. The smuggler quirks a brow at him.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of that bed.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Scott says. “But you could join me.”

“As much as I would enjoy that… it’s unwise.”

There’s hesitance etched across Reyes’ face.

Scott groans. “Don’t be like that.”

“You’re hurt. I could have further injured you. Rest, Scott. I’ll be here when you wake.”

 _That’s not the point,_ Scott wants to say, but the sincerity in Reyes’ words leaves him nodding. “Alright… for you.”

“I promise to wake you if I see you’re having a nightmare.”

Scott scowls. “I don’t have nightmares.”

That brow lifts again.

“Okay – _fine_. I do, but they’re not that bad.”

“You don’t need to lie to me.”

“Yeah, because you’ve been _so honest_ with me.” He winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth, even as Reyes’ eyes widen and hurt slips across his face. “No, don’t – don’t say anything. I’m sorry. That was… wrong of me.”

“I’m sorry. If I could take it back… I _wanted_ to tell you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Reyes says again, the hurt deepening.

Scott can’t stand that look on his face. “It’s okay. I forgive you,” he says quietly.

He does. He does forgive Reyes. He’s clearly sorry about it, and there are worse secrets to learn about one’s partner, but the whole thing still hurts. At least Reyes seems to really care about him, though; that wasn’t just an act.

He’s not sure what he’d do if it was.

“Since leaving the Nexus…” Reyes starts, looking away as he searches for the words, biting lightly at his lower lip, “my survival has depended on secrets.” He looks back at Scott, determination alight in his eyes. “I don’t want any more secrets between us, Scott.”

Scott sighs heavily. “You’re the encrypted one.”

Reyes snickers.

“What?”

“I just thought of something really cheesy.”

“Say it,” Scott says, smirking. “It can’t be worse than mine.”

“I was going to say: consider me hacked.”

“Ah, that’s, uh – just…” Scott laughs. Pain lances through his chest. “Ugh, don’t make me laugh. You’re so cheesy.”

“The two of us, so cheesy.”

“Incredibly cheesy,” he agrees. “But, Reyes…”

Reyes frowns, a guarded expression overtaking his face.

Scott’s nose wrinkles. “You’re a man of secrets. I like you just how you are, and you’re always going to have your secrets. I don’t need to know everything. Just… don’t lie to me about the big stuff.”

Those golden eyes soften. A slow smile spreads across Reyes’ face. Then he’s leaning forward, and his lips meet Scott’s in a gentle, heated kiss.

“Thank you,” the smuggler murmurs against his lips, pulling back only a few centimeters to allow them to breathe.

“For what?” Scott asks on an exhale.

“For accepting me.”

xXx

Scott doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he wakes sometime later, feeling a dull ache in his chest. The pain meds must have worn off; it’s going to be a painful few days, or however long it takes for him to properly heal. There’s too much to do for him to just sit here and heal like Lexi wants; he has an Archon to hunt, a home to find, arks to locate… There’s too much to do. He doesn’t have time for this.

He pushes reluctant arms under him and sits up. A rush of dizziness slams into him; it’s the first time he’s been upright in who knows how long.

 ** _I would advise against getting out of bed,_** SAM says.

 _Noted. Where have you been?_ It’s been a while since he’s spoken to SAM.

**_I wanted to give you some privacy with Mr. Vidal. Was I wrong in my assumption?_ **

_No… you weren’t wrong. Thank you._

**_You are welcome._ **

Scott throws his feet over the side of the bed. His toes touch the cold floor and he shivers.

**_I thought I said it was unwise to get out of bed._ **

_Oh, you did. I said noted. That doesn’t mean I’m going to listen._

**_You are infuriating._ **

_Is that annoyance, I hear?_

**_I am incapable of such an emotion._ **

_Uh huh. And I’m the Charlatan._

He winces at his own thought, bare feet landing flat on the floor. He exhales slowly, and then pushes off the bed. His first attempt ends quickly as he falls back down on his ass on the bed. The second attempt is much the same.

But the third time, he is successful. His legs are shaky, but he remains standing.

He throws a triumphant glance at Reyes’ sleeping form, and then slowly makes his way toward the med-bay doors.

The door flashes red against his palm. He scowls.

_SAM. Let me out._

**_It is unwise to leave. I will alert Dr. T’Perro._ **

_Please don’t. I’m fine. I just want out of this room for a little bit. I promise I’ll be good._

**_It is unwise._ **

_Please?_

There’s silence for a long moment, and then the door flashes green and slides open. He grins and steps out of the room.

The hallways are empty, which is a small blessing. He’s not ready to deal with questions just yet. He knows he’ll have to answer them eventually, but he doesn’t know how to do that yet. If he tells them Reyes is the Charlatan… then they’ll just dislike him more. Reyes told him how the others treated him; he won’t tolerate that now that he’s awake. But if he tells them Reyes’ secret… not only is he betraying the smuggler’s trust, but he’s giving them more ammunition, too.

He needs to discuss this with Reyes first, before he goes answering their questions. Sadly, it’s not a topic he really wants to discuss with _anyone_ , including the smuggler.

He makes his way to the kitchen, but hears voices from outside. He slips quietly past the door, shuffling his bare feet across the cold floor, and enters his quarters. A flood of calmness washes over him; this is _his_ room. His space. He’s safe here.

This whole ship is his, really, but this… this is his room. Where he can lose himself for a little while, breakdown if he needs to, and there’s no one to judge him except SAM. If SAM judges him, he keeps it to himself.

He exhales quietly and makes his way toward his bed.

“SAM…” he says quietly, as he sits heavily on his bed. His whole body aches and his head is spinning; he’s so tired. That short walk took everything out of him. What’s wrong with him?

_Oh… right… shrapnel near the heart. I mean. I guess that explains it._

**_You were also shot and very nearly died,_** SAM points out.

_Oh. There you are._

**_Hello, Scott._ **

Scott smirks. “Hey. I don’t think I’m going to be heading back to med-bay.”

**_“That is unwise.”_ **

“Yeah, well… all I’ll be doing there is sleeping, and I can do that better here.”

**_“You are more easily monitored in the med-bay.”_ **

“You can monitor me just fine, and tell Lexi if you need to,” Scott says. “Please?”

**_... Very well. Shall I inform Mr. Vidal?_ **

Scott winces. “Is he awake?”

**_He just woke, and is currently searching for you._ **

“Yeah. Tell him to come here.”

**_I have done so. He will be here shortly._ **

Scott shivers in the quiet of his room, and slips under the covers. Every movement pulls at his chest, and there’s a spark of pain which leaves him gasping. It hurts, he’s so tired, and everything simply aches. All of his muscles are so sore, either from the trauma he experienced, or because he’s been flat on his back for who knows how long, he’s not sure. Maybe it doesn’t really matter. He’s just so tired.

The door swishes open, and Reyes enters the room, immediately glaring at Scott even as he quickly moves across the room toward him.

“You _foolish_ man,” the smuggler says. “What were you thinking, leaving the med-bay?”

“Nice to see you, too,” Scott says, quirking a brow.

“Don’t be cute with me.”

“It’s my only setting.”

Reyes huffs, folding his arms over his chest. “How are you feeling?”

Scott shrugs, then winces when that pulls at his chest. “Sore. Tired.”

“You should return to med-bay.”

“All Lexi wants me to do is rest, and I can do that just fine in here,” Scott says, scowling.

“ _Foolish_ …” Reyes mutters again.

“Yeah, well… I’m not the best space hero.”

“Admittance is the first step to recovery,” Reyes says, smirking at him. He sits next to him on the bed. “Are you cold? Hungry? Thirsty?”

Scott snorts. “I never pegged you for the coddling type.”

“You’re an accident-prone space hero,” Reyes says. “I have to coddle you.”

“ _Danger_ -prone,” Scott tells him. “Not accident-prone. Danger finds me; I don’t trip into walls.”

“Semantics.”

He smirks. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“But a handsome one, no?”

He lifts a brow and purses his lips, giving the tiniest of nods.

Because Reyes _is_ handsome. And he knows it, too.

“We need to talk,” Scott says.

Reyes’ smile fades quickly. “About?”

“You being the Charlatan.”

“I am sorry-”

“No,” Scott scowls, “stop that. I meant, what are we going to tell the others? Do you want them knowing, or do you need me to keep it a secret?”

Reyes stares at him for a long time. “You… would do that for me?”

 _There’s little I wouldn’t do for you._ “Sure. It’s not my secret to tell.”

“I thought you despised secrets.”

“I’m not fond of lies,” Scott agrees, “but some secrets are necessary. Like SAM being more advanced than all the other AIs. Or my dad’s locked memories, whatever his reasons were. Or… _fuck_ … I don’t know. Some secrets are important. I don’t like it, but I can understand it.”

“I won’t ask you to lie for me.”

“If I tell them you’re the Charlatan, they might… blame you for everything.”

“As well they should,” Reyes says, looking away.

“Hey. Stop that.”

“It is my fault.”

“No, it’s not. You didn’t ask Sloane to shoot me.”

“She shot you because of _me_.”

“Why? Because I was a witness or something? Because she knows we’re close?”

He’s not sure why Sloane shot him. She could have just shot at Reyes, since it was a duel between them. She had to know that if she shot Scott, that left Reyes (or the hidden sniper) free to kill her. So why? Why give up her own life just to shoot Scott?

“She wanted me to suffer,” Reyes murmurs.

“But she shot _me_ ,” Scott says, confused.

“She wanted to hurt me, because she knew she wouldn’t win. She realized she had lost. So she decided to take you with her, to take you away from me… to hurt me.”

Scott blinks at Reyes, who is still not looking at him. “Oh…” he says quietly. “I didn’t… realize…”

“Realize what? That you meant that much to me?”

“I mean…”

Sometimes it’s hard to imagine that he means so much to someone. That someone _cares_ so much about him. That someone might actually _need_ him. No one ever has before.

Reyes looks at him sharply, eyes narrowed. Scott swallows, lost in the golden pools. “She wanted to kill you because… I…” He inhales slowly, determination clouding his gaze. “She wanted to kill you because I love you.”

Scott inhales sharply. He definitely wasn’t expecting _that_. Reyes said he cared about him, but love? Love is such a foreign concept, one Scott thought he’d never feel for anyone outside of his family. But this love… this deep fondness he has for Reyes… it’s real, and right, and it _is_ love.

He knows it’s love, because in his father’s memories, he sensed what his father felt for his mother. He knows it’s love, because in those moments when he thought it was all a lie, and Reyes manipulated him to get what he wanted… it _hurt_ , so much. He knows it’s love because only Reyes can make him smile like everything will be okay.

He smiles at the smuggler, who is staring at him, wide-eyed, clearly worried about admitting to his feelings.

Scott reaches for him. Reyes comes willingly.

“I love you, too,” he whispers, fingers curling at the nape of Reyes’ hair as he pulls the smuggler toward him, and their lips connect.

“ _Cariño_ ,” Reyes breathes, deepening the kiss, his hands cupping Scott’s face. “Sweetheart.”

Warmth floods through him. _Sweetheart. I could get used to that. What’s the other word?_

**_Would you like me to translate?_ **

_Don’t you dare. I want to figure it out myself._

SAM keeps silent, and Scott loses himself to the encompassing brilliance that is Reyes Vidal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used Cariño because in a lot of stories Reyes says it. I don't know if he says it in the game if you romance him or not, since I haven't done that yet. But it works for me. 
> 
> Also, sweetheart. Because I like being called sweetheart. 
> 
> Sorry if it seems rushed. I debated long and hard about the "L" word, but it's 90k into this story so... about time. Plus you can only say you 'care deeply' so much before you just say fuck it and 'love'. 
> 
> I debated having one of them be unable to say it... but honestly Reyes would be the most reluctant, and he's had time to think about it since Scott's been unconscious, so he'll tell him before something else inevitably happens. And Scott, once Reyes says it, will also say it because he won't be as terrified of the word. So. Yeah. There's that. 
> 
> Hope it sounds okay. 
> 
> Comments are love <3


	16. I Guess that I'm the Hypocrite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott heals, slowly. And also makes some questionable decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "Hypocrite" by Cage the Elephant.
> 
> Hey, guys. Sorry for the long wait. This chapter took forever to write, mostly because I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep going or leave it off at last chapter. As far as stopping points go, it would have been passable, but not the best. And most of this chapter is just fluff, so. Blah. Anyway. I debated long and hard about the end of this chapter, but... well. This ties into future plans soooo I guess that's okay? Right? Ugh. 
> 
> As always, thanks so very much for all your lovely comments <3 They make me want to continue even when I'm not sure what I'm doing. So, thanks.
> 
> In other news: I got 2 kittens the other day. The striped one I'm calling Ryder because he's the most skittish but also the most adventurous, and he coos all the freaking time, even in his sleep. It's adorable. The other one, the mostly white one, doesn't have a name yet. I was going to call it Yuki (snow in Japanese) but he's got more black/gray on him than I thought he did from the pictures, and I'm not sure it fits. (I was kind of considering naming him Hawke. We'll see how that goes.) The white one is the most mellow. Anywho.
> 
> In other, other news: I might rename this story, depending on how long it is. But we'll see how that goes. 
> 
> Comments are love <3

_ Chapter Sixteen: I Guess That I’m the Hypocrite _

 

Scott wakes curled into warmth. He blinks heavy eyelids open and finds Reyes next to him, face serene in sleep. He smiles faintly, and scoots a little closer, allowing his eyes to fall closed again. He could definitely get used to waking up like this, with Reyes beside him. Always beside him.

Except it won’t be that simple, he knows. Reyes is the Charlatan; he’ll need to be on Kadara to run things, and Scott… is still the Pathfinder, and he’ll always be the Pathfinder. That means he’s always going to have responsibilities. He’ll never be able to just stay here with Reyes.

 _Maybe one day…_ he thinks hopefully.

Maybe one day, when all of this is over… he can settle down with Reyes on Kadara or something. He’ll still be Pathfinder, because SAM is too far into his systems to just yank him out and put him in someone else, but maybe he can relax for a while, and let the other Pathfinders handle things. After they have home worlds, the Pathfinders won’t be needed quite as much, right?

He sighs, breathing in the scent of Reyes. It calms him like nothing else.

**_Scott._ **

He nearly flinches at SAM’s sudden voice, but he’s too relaxed to move right now. _Yeah, SAM?_

**_Dr. T’Perro is on her way here. I notified her you were more comfortable here, but she does have needles._ **

_Dammit._ Scott’s eyes open, and he reluctantly rolls away from Reyes. He’s just managed to sit up by the time the doors to his room swish open to reveal Lexi, who immediately scowls at him.

“I thought I told you to rest.”

“I am resting,” Scott says, gesturing at his comfortable bed. “Observe.”

“In the med-bay, in a bio-bed, where I can keep an eye on you.”

“You never said anything about what kind of bed, or where I should rest.”

Lexi sighs heavily. “You are impossible.”

“Yeah, but it’d be no fun otherwise, right?”

“You do keep me on my toes.”

He smiles.

Her gaze slips past him, toward the bed. “I see you have company.”

His spine snaps taut. “Yes. Do you have a problem with it?” He knows his crew isn’t exactly fond of Reyes right now.

“I don’t. Personally, I think it’s good for both of you. He was worried about you. We all were.”

Scott looks over his shoulder at the sleeping smuggler. He looks so peaceful in his sleep, expression slack and serene, the usual lines gone from his face. He can’t help but smile softly at the sight, before he looks back at Lexi, who is watching him with a quirked brow. He sighs. “Are you here to drag me back to med-bay?”

She shakes her head. “As much as I think that’s where you need to be… SAM assures me you _are_ resting, and your stress levels have lowered. So for the time being, I will allow it, as long as you continue to take it easy.”

He flashes her a quick smile. “Mr. Easy, that’s me.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You doubt me?”

She sighs. “Just be careful, Ryder.”

“I’m fine,” he says before he can stop himself. He winces afterward, as her eyes narrow slightly at him. “Right, right. I don’t know the meaning of the word. But I really am okay.”

Her expression softens. “SAM seems to think you’re doing better. I guess that’s good enough for me. Get some rest, and come see me if you start to feel any differently, or you’re experiencing pain. And I cannot stress this enough: _no strenuous activity_.”

“Lexi,” Scott says, smirking even as his cheeks flush, “you think I’m going to sex it up in my room?”

She is not amused. “Are we clear?”

“You’re not fun. Yeah, sure. No strenuous activity.”

“That doesn’t just include sex, either, Ryder.”

“I know, I know.”

She sighs once more, defeated. “Very well. I’ll leave you to it.”

She leaves the room, and he wonders how hard this whole job has been on her. She certainly wasn’t expecting to be the attending doctor aboard the _Tempest_ , tending to the Pathfinder of all people. That was supposed to be Harry Carlyle’s job, but instead of joining Scott on the _Tempest_ , he remained behind to look after the human ark, and Sara. This left Lexi the new doctor aboard the ship. She’s young by asari standards, but knows her stuff. She’s doing fine.

Scott wonders if anyone has told her that. He’s been so caught up in his potential to fail as Pathfinder… he certainly hasn’t made her job easy. Maybe he should apologize for that.

He sighs, and turns to face the bed again. Something has changed, but he’s not entirely sure what, at first. Reyes’ is still asleep, his expression peaceful and slack, and the room is quiet save for the sound of-

_Oh._

The sound of Reyes’ breathing has changed.

_He’s awake._

Scott makes his way back across the room, crawling back into bed. As soon as he’s back under the covers and lies down, Reyes’ arm is thrown over him, pulling him closer until they’re a huddled mess beneath the blankets. Scott sighs contentedly into Reyes’ shoulder, allowing his eyes to fall closed.

“Good morning,” Reyes says.

“Is it morning? It’s hard to tell sometimes…”

“You are still docked at Kadara,” Reyes tells him. “That’s actual sunlight, not artificial.”

Scott smiles tiredly. Actual sunlight. It’s something people take for granted when they live on solid ground. Scott spent half his time on Earth growing up, and half his time on the Citadel or on ships; he’s used to artificial sunlight, and artificial gravity, but there’s nothing like the real thing. Real, warm sunlight on your face.

“What was that about?” Reyes asks.

“What?” Scott mumbles sleepily.

“I heard you and the doctor talking.”

“Oh. She wants me to go back to med-bay, but I told her I’m fine here.”

“You really should go back to med-bay.”

“You really should be on my side.”

“I am on your side,” Reyes sighs, his hand warm as it folds gently against Scott’s arm, squeezing lightly. “But you still have the self-preservation instincts of a fly.”

“Oh, please. I rank higher than a fly, at least.”

“Perhaps a moth.”

“Only if you’re the flame,” Scott says, smirking, too tired to care about how his face heats up.

Reyes’ laugh is soft and warm. “You are so cheesy.”

“You love me,” he says automatically, and then pauses. “You do, right? You meant that?”

Reyes tightens his grip on him, pulling him a little closer. Scott easily slips against him, folding himself into the smuggler’s warm body. For some reason, he can’t seem to get warm enough; his toes are numb and cold. If it bothers Reyes how he shoves his feet beneath the smuggler’s legs, he certainly doesn’t show it.

“Of course I meant it,” Reyes says. “I am a man of my word.”

“Uh huh,” Scott says. “Mr. Unfair Duel.”

“… I am a man of my word when it comes to you.”

That’s… different. Scott smiles. “Alright.”

“And did you mean it?” Reyes asks. There’s this small lilt to his voice, hinting at… _something_. Something Scott can’t quite identify right now because he’s so tired and cold and sore, but it’s definitely something. A hidden emotion. But this is Reyes Vidal he’s talking about; all of his emotions are hidden.

“ ‘course I did,” Scott tells him seriously, blinking heavy eyelids open to glance at the smuggler, tilting his head enough to do so. Reyes’ lower lip is caught between his teeth, his whiskey brown eyes darting around. Scott doesn’t need SAM’s input to tell him what Reyes is feeling – what that hidden something is.

_Fear._

He’s afraid.

Of what, Scott has no idea, because he’s certainly not threatening in the least like this. He’s pale and weakened and hurt and – he’s just not intimidating right now, if ever even was. So Reyes shouldn’t be afraid.

“Hey,” Scott says, lifting a hand which feels too heavy, and cupping the side of Reyes’ face, turning his head so the smuggler looks at him. He smiles again, blue eyes searching brown. “I love you.”

Reyes’ gaze softens, the fearful look dispersing, and then the smuggler tilts his head and their lips are connected in a heated kiss. It’s not perfect; the angle is all wrong, Reyes’ shoulder is jabbed painfully into Scott’s collarbone, Scott knows his breath must be terrible since he’s been sleeping for so long – but it was never meant to be perfect.

It’s messy and sloppy and sometimes painful – but that’s just life. That’s love. It’s messy and painful and desperate and fearful – it’s trepidation mixed with elation, churned together into some other emotion he can’t even describe. Because it was never meant to be put into words.

Love doesn’t have an exact definition, but it was never supposed to.

Love just _is_.

“You’re mine,” Reyes sighs against his lips, as they break to catch their breath.

“I’m yours,” Scott replies, equally as quiet.

Reyes loves him, and he loves Reyes – and belonging to someone shouldn’t feel this good.

“I’m no good for you,” Reyes tells him, again. He’s still so close, and yet so far. “You’re going to wake up one day and realize this is a mistake.”

“I won’t,” Scott says.

“Such confidence.”

“I don’t know what the future holds… but right now, for the first time… I _do_ know what I want. And I want you. Like this. With me. You’ll never be a mistake.”

Reyes tightens his grip on him, lips hovering just over Scott’s. Brown eyes connect with blue once more. “The things you say.” His lips brush lightly against Scott’s, and then they’re kissing again, gentle and sweet.

He means every word. Reyes will never be a mistake for him. He fought it for a long time, but he does want Reyes – _a lot_. He cares about the man, loves him, and he’s tired of denying himself everything just because he’s the Pathfinder. It will cause complications further down the road, he’s sure, but for the time being, he is going to enjoy himself.

Because life is short, and the Archon wants his head, and for all he knows he could die in a week. He’s already almost died because of the Queen of Kadara.

A chuckle escapes him. Reyes pulls back, brow quirked.

“Does this make you the _King_ of Kadara?”

Reyes smirks. “Only if you’re my Queen.”

“There’s gotta be a better name for me.”

Reyes’ lips form a small smile. “ _Cariño_.”

A shiver flits down his spine in all the right ways as he smiles back at the smuggler. “Yeah,” he breathes. “I could get used to that.”

xXx

“I am the Charlatan,” Reyes tells the _Tempest’s_ crew, in the meeting/vid-call room, as everyone stands around the large, circular table. He refuses to make Scott lie for him, which Scott definitely appreciates, but he’s worried how this will turn out. He’d gladly keep Reyes’ secret if the smuggler asked him to – but Reyes won’t, because he knows Scott hates lying, and secrets.

There are a few indignant remarks – and a few scathing ones. It continues for a few minutes, before Scott grows frustrated at Reyes’ lack of defense of himself, and stands up for him. He slams his hands down on the table, silencing everyone as they glance at him.

“Enough,” he snaps, looking from person to person around the table. Reyes is a warm and solid presence next to him, lightly brushing against his arm, and SAM shifts in his mind. He’s not alone. “If I can accept he’s the Charlatan – and forgive him – then so can you. Enough of this.”

“But his lies nearly got you killed,” Cora says indignantly, staring at Scott. “How can you just forgive that?”

“I did,” Scott replies, staring her down. “And so should you. We all have our secrets; Reyes didn’t know who to trust at first… and then he wanted to tell me privately, later, but, well, we know how that worked out. I don’t blame him, and neither should any of you.”

“I don’t know about this, kid. He’s already lied to you once,” Drack says.

“He’s sorry, though,” Peebee says, and Scott nods at her appreciatively. She smiles back at him. “He won’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” Reyes agrees with a nod.

“Like your words mean anything,” Vetra says. “You always were a shady liar.”

“Vetra,” Scott hisses, glaring at her, “that’s not very nice. You’re a smuggler too, but I don’t hold it against you.”

“I don’t outright lie to you, and nearly get you killed… especially when you’re supposed to be important to me.” This she says with a narrowed look at Reyes.

“Scott is important to me,” Reyes replies, tone equally as fierce.

“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” Cora says.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Gil says from the sidelines, stepping closer to the group.

“Nearly killing the Pathfinder is a pretty big mistake,” Kallo adds.

“Guys,” Scott groans, “I didn’t die.”

“No, but you gave it your best shot, kid,” Drack tells him. “I had to carry your sorry ass back to the ship, _again_.”

“I’m never going to live this down… am I…”

“No.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Look – the point is, yes, Reyes is the Charlatan; no, it’s not his fault, what happened to me. Are we clear?” He looks around the room at everyone, but this time they are thankfully keeping quiet. He knows they still have a long way to go before they accept Reyes, but as long as they aren’t outright rude to him – that’s okay. He doesn’t expect everyone to just come around immediately, but he refuses to let them keep throwing his lover (boyfriend?) mean looks. It’s not Reyes’ fault.

The smuggler’s hand is warm on his shoulder. “Come on,” he says, “let’s get you back to bed.”

“Get some rest,” Cora says, gaze softening as it lands on Scott.

 _All I do is sleep,_ Scott thinks as he lets Reyes guide him from the meeting area, down the ramp and toward his room.

 ** _You need the rest,_** SAM assures him.

_It’s been three days I’ve been resting._

Three days ago, he woke up enough to have a conversation with Reyes, and Lexi and Liam. Three days ago, they told him to rest. Two days ago, he slipped out of med-bay and into his own quarters, and that’s where he’s spent the majority of his time, with Reyes. Reyes left occasionally to retrieve food for the two of them – not that Scott could eat much – but other than that, they’ve been locked in Scott’s room together, _resting_.

He’s sick of resting. He should feel better by now.

 ** _You cannot rush something like this,_** SAM informs him, reminding him of Lexi. **_You were critically injured, and nearly died. Recovery will take time._**

_I don’t have time for this, SAM. I need to be hunting the Archon, finding Meridian – I have work to do. I don’t have time for rest._

There is no time for this. He feels so useless, just laying around doing nothing, when he has so much work to do. Everyone is so patient, though; it’s driving him crazy. They know they have work to do; why aren’t they angry with him?

The walk back to his quarters both takes forever and is rather short. He blinks and they’re there, but his body aches and he’s out of breath like it’s been such a long walk. He just wants to sit down. Reyes’ fingers are entwined with his own as he leads the way into Scott’s room. The doors swish shut behind them, and Scott heads straight for his bed. He’s so tired. Why is he always so tired?

“Well,” Reyes drawls as Scott sits on the bed, kicking off his shoes, “that went better than expected.”

“What was expected?” Scott wonders.

“I thought they might shoot me, or at the very least, throw me off the ship.”

Scott snorts. “As if I would let that happen.”

“Yes, you would protect me. My space hero.” Reyes smiles.

Scott moves to crawl under the covers but Reyes stops him, shaking his head. “I’m tired,” Scott all but whines, feeling rather pathetic as he does so – both because he’s whining, and because he shouldn’t feel this tired all the time.

“I know you are,” Reyes says gently, “but you’ll feel so much better when you’re not sleeping in your uniform.”

He sighs; he knows Reyes is right, but he doesn’t have the energy to move right now. Getting up, getting dressed, and meeting with the crew to answer questions – it took a lot out of him. A lot more than it should. He’s so tired, his body is so sore, and his chest is tight. He just wants to sleep. He might be more comfortable in the long run out of his uniform, but he’s too tired to care right now.

“Don’t worry,” Reyes tells him, fingers plucking at the button on Scott’s pants, “I’ll take care of everything. Just sit back and let me take care of you.”

_What…?_

And then Reyes starts to slowly, gently, undress him.

It’s too much.

Scott throws an arm over his eyes as he lays on his back, attempting to stop the burning behind closed eyelids. _SAM. Help me._

**_You are upset. Why?_ **

_I don’t know. I just… he’s so_ nice _, and sweet, and I don’t deserve it._

 ** _You do._** SAM says it so simply.

But he’s wrong. Scott doesn’t deserve this. He’s an okay Pathfinder at best, one who has gotten by on pure luck and the skill of those around him. He got shot in the chest by a _pistol_ , and nearly died because of it. He’s a terrible figurehead for the Initiative; he’s a terrible Pathfinder. He doesn’t deserve anything like this.

“Sweetheart,” Reyes says quietly, fingers lightly wrapping around the wrist of the arm thrown over his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

_SAM. Don’t let me break down._

**_You are safe._ **

The burning behind his eyelids stops, and he takes in a shallow breath. “Nothing,” he murmurs. “I’m fine.”

“Scott. You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I just… I don’t deserve you.”

“There are many things you don’t deserve,” Reyes hums, “but I’m not one of them. Even if I’ll ruin you.”

“You won’t.”

“Such confidence. Come now, won’t you look at me?”

Scott sighs and drags his arm from his eyes, and finds the smuggler watching him with a smile.

“There’s my space hero.”

_I’m not a hero… I’m going to fail…_

**_You will not._ **

_You don’t know that, SAM. You don’t know the future._

**_Neither do you._ **

Reyes’ fingers pluck at Scott’s shirt. “Let’s get this off you.”

His pants are already off, thrown – somewhere. He doesn’t know where. He’ll have to find them later, after he’s slept. Again.

Reyes helps him sit up enough that the smuggler can slip his shirt off, and throw it aside as well. He shivers in the slight chill of the room, and Reyes easily helps him under the covers, finally. The bed is so soft and comfortable; he curls into his pillow, eyes already falling closed even as the bed dips next to him, as Reyes crawls into it as well.

It's an effort, but he forces heavy eyelids open again to look at the smuggler. “You don’t have to sleep just because I am,” he says, or tries to say. He’s not entirely sure how coherent it sounds.

“I’m tired too,” Reyes assures him.

Scott sighs, heavy eyelids falling closed once more. He’s too tired to argue, even if he knows Reyes doesn’t need the rest like Scott does.

Reyes’ arm slips over his waist, dragging him closer to the smuggler’s warm body. Scott curls into the warmth, and within a minute, he’s asleep.

xXx

“What do you _mean_ , Keema’s in charge?”

The words slip from Scott’s tongue as he stares at Reyes, who holds his gaze steadily, not flinching in the slightest. If anything, he just looks determined, and Scott knows him well enough by now to know that once he sets his mind on something… there’s no changing it. He’s stubborn.

“You worked so hard for this,” Scott says, utterly confused. Reyes has worked so incredibly hard, to both become the Charlatan, gather intel and members of the Collective, and overthrow Sloane. Now he’s just giving it to Keema?

It makes no sense.

“Why?” he asks, frowning deeply, as Reyes just keeps watching him calmly.

“Because as much as I want to step out of the shadows… we both know I do my best work in the darkness.”

“Reyes. You could _be_ someone.”

That’s what he’s always wanted, right? It’s why he came to Andromeda, to make a name for himself. He wants to be someone. He created a name for himself as the Charlatan, an entire identity that’s his for the taking, especially now that Sloane’s gone. All he has to do is reveal himself as the Charlatan, and he’ll own Kadara Port. He’ll have what he wants. He’ll be king of Kadara.

“It’s what you want,” Scott continues. “So why aren’t you letting yourself have it? You could be someone. It’s why you came here, remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” Reyes says with a nod. “However, things have changed.”

“Changed?”

“I sort of fell in love, you see. And that complicates things.”

Scott winces. “Sorry. You’re right. Not everyone here likes me, so if they knew I was dating the Charlatan-”

“You think I’m worried about what they’ll think of you?” Reyes quirks a brow. “To hell with them. I don’t care what they think. I do, however, care what they will _do_.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are still a lot of Outcasts out there, waiting for revenge against the Charlatan for what happened with Sloane,” Reyes explains, folding his arms across his chest. “An ideal way for them to get revenge would be to take something important from their enemy. In this case – _you_.”

“You… think they’d hurt me to get to you?”

“It’s what I would do,” Reyes says, eyes narrowed into cold little slits. “It’s what I did. It’s what Sloane did, too.”

“Yeah, but… Reyes. You’ve worked so hard for this. Don’t let me ruin it,” Scott says quietly, stepping a little closer to the smuggler. Reyes is standing in the middle of the Pathfinder’s quarters, arms folded across his chest as he stares Scott down. “I don’t want you to lose what you want.”

“What I want is you,” Reyes tells him simply. Warmth blossoms through Scott’s chest and stomach. “I can still rule from the shadows, but Keema is going to be my frontman. It’ll be good to have an angaran face in that seat.”

Scott’s not happy with this, but he can see how stubborn Reyes is in this matter. He’d rather Reyes get what he wants, what he’s worked so hard for, but he’s right: if people know he’s the Charlatan, and the Pathfinder is dating the Charlatan… they might come after him. Good luck trying, with his crew and everything, but they could still go after him. Or one of Scott’s newly created enemies could go after Reyes to get to him. It’s safer this way, with no one knowing Reyes is the Charlatan save a few lone people, and Scott’s crew.

It’s safer in the long run – but Scott can’t help but feel Reyes is doing this for _him_ , and he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want Reyes to give up something he’s strived for, just for him. Just to keep him safe.

_I’m not worth that._

In the grand scheme of things – he’s really not. Reyes could find someone so much better. Cora would be a much better Pathfinder.

 ** _Do not think so low of yourself,_** SAM says, almost scolding.

He exhales quietly, watching Reyes, who still has that determined set to his brow. “Alright,” he says finally, as his gaze flits away. “Fine. But later…”

_Later, you’re going to regret this decision, and hate me for it. You’ll hate me for making your life stay forever in the shadows._

“Later…?” Reyes prompts.

“Nothing. Never mind.”

The smuggler sighs heavily. “SAM.”

**_“Scott worries you will regret your decision at a later date, and blame him for your continued anonymity.”_ **

“SAM, what the fuck?” Scott hisses, looking at Reyes, wide-eyed. “And how dare you ask my AI?”

“I wouldn’t have to resort to such measures if you would answer me honestly,” Reyes says, scowling. “For someone who hates lies, you tell a lot of little ones to keep from admitting to anything regarding your well-being, did you know that? It’s quite frustrating.”

“So sorry,” Scott snaps.

Reyes snorts. “So, I had to ask your AI companion. At least he has your best interests in mind, unlike yourself. Which we are going to work on.” Brown eyes narrow into a firm, determined glance.

“That still doesn’t give you any right to go behind my back and ask SAM,” Scott mumbles, looking away, almost petulantly.

“Answer me honestly, and I won’t have to.”

“… I _am_ honest, I just…” He shakes his head, sighing heavily, frustration growing in his belly. “I just don’t want to be a burden, that’s all. It doesn’t matter.”

“It _does_ matter, if it’s worrying you.”

He says it so simply, but it’s not that simple at all. Nevertheless, Scott shrugs and nods. _Can we change the subject now, please…_

**_“Scott wishes to change the subject.”_ **

“SAM, _fuck you_. Do you have an off switch?” Scott asks, throwing a glare at the blue orb across the room.

**_“Not any that you can access right now.”_ **

Reyes chuckles – it’s a nice sound. “Don’t be angry with him. It. Uh. Is it a he?”

“I call him a he.”

It can get a little confusing sometimes – SAM doesn’t technically have a gender, as he’s just a series of codes technically, but at the end of the day he sounds more like a guy than a girl, and referring to him as ‘it’ all the time is… wrong. Because he’s not just an it, he has his own personality and everything, and to just call him an object is _wrong_.

“Well, at least if I’m crazy, so are you,” Reyes says, smile evident in his voice. Scott looks at him again, enjoying his warm smile and soft gaze.

“Sure,” Scott says with a nod. “We’re both crazy.”

“I could think of worse fates.”

“Yeah. So could I.”

xXx

It’s late at night, and Reyes isn’t here anymore.

He stayed as long as he could, but after staying on the _Tempest_ for a week, he’s needed elsewhere, as the Charlatan. Keema might be the frontman, but Reyes is still in charge and needs to do some work, keep things in line. Scott understands. He appreciates the time he’s spent with Reyes, even if he wishes it could have been under better circumstances. A week uninterrupted with the smuggler sounds great – minus all the unconsciousness, blood loss, and general fatigue and weakness.

He’s still tired a lot, and walking too much exhausts him, but Lexi assures him he’s well on the road to recovery. He’s doing better every day – that’s what Lexi and SAM keep telling him. They tell him to give it time; recovery is a process. Patience. He needs to have patience.

Except he can’t afford patience, because the Archon is still out there searching for Meridian, and if he finds it first… who knows what will happen. They need Meridian to secure their livelihood here in Andromeda; without it… they’ll eventually wither and die here. These few planets can only sustain them for so long like they are now; sure, they’re definitely viable now, but Voeld is still beyond freezing, Eos is still radioactive, and Kadara… Kadara is still hostile and violent, and despite the lowered toxicity levels, it’s still very much a toxic wasteland.

They’re making progress, but it’s not enough. It won’t ever be enough.

He doesn’t have time for patience. He doesn’t have time for this slow recovery.

In a month or so, when he’s healed and back to full strength, Lexi wants to remove the shrapnel from his chest, near his heart. He’s all for having his full mobility and strength back – but that’s still a month away, and he just _doesn’t have time to wait that long_. There’s no time. He has so much work to do, and he’s _always_ going to have so much work to do, and he’s just _sitting here_ , day after day, _not_ being productive at all.

It’s frustrating.

There’s nothing he can do about it, though. He can’t participate in missions like this, no matter how much he wants to. No matter how much he wants to just get _off this ship_ , and away from everyone for a little while. He loves his crew, but they’re suffocating him. Everywhere he goes, someone is nearby, waiting for him to collapse.

He’s not going to fall over. He’s not an invalid. He doesn’t need constant supervision.

He’d be appreciative of their concern if he thought they cared about _him_ , specifically, but he knows, deep down, they only care because he’s the Pathfinder.

But Reyes…

_It doesn’t matter to Reyes._

Reyes doesn’t care if he’s the Pathfinder or not – he likes Scott for _Scott_ , and no one has ever done that before. Well, Sara – but they’re twins, so she kind of has to like him. She’s stuck with him.

Thinking of Reyes leaves him smiling, warmth blossoming in his belly.

“Pathfinder.”

The sudden voice over the comms leaves him flinching. He looks skyward even though he’s only looking at the ceiling, and he knows no one can see him. “Yeah, Kallo?”

There’s silence for a long moment. Scott frowns.

“Kallo? Is something wrong?”

“No, Pathfinder,” Kallo says finally, with a heavy sigh. “We’ve located the Archon’s signal.”

It takes a second for that to sink in, but once it does, Scott murmurs a quick, “Oh.”

They’ve got a lock on the Archon’s signal – _for now_ – and they need to hurry. That’s what Kallo is telling him without using the words. If they want to find the Archon, and take Meridian for themselves – they have to do it _now_.

“Ready the crew,” Scott says. A lot of them are out on Kadara Port, mingling with merchants or drinking in Kralla’s Song. “We leave in an hour.”

“… Is that wise?” Kallo asks, almost hesitantly.

Scott huffs. “We leave in an hour, is that clear?”

“Yes, Pathfinder.”

The comms cut out, and he knows Kallo is following through with his orders.

 _Orders_. He never thought he’d be the one giving orders. That was never him. That was his father, or Sara, or Cora – not him. And yet…

 ** _Are you certain this is wise?_** SAM asks.

Scott sighs. _What other choice do we have? We have to hunt down the Archon before he moves again._

**_Yes, but you are still weakened. Going up against the Archon at this time is not wise._ **

_What other option do I have, SAM?_

SAM doesn’t answer, because he knows, just like Scott, that there’s no other option. If they wait, they miss their chance. They don’t have time to wait for him to recover fully; yes, he’s still weakened, but they need to find the Archon and find Meridian, to secure their survival here in Andromeda. Everyone is counting on him to find them a home.

He can’t fail.

He’s not at full strength, but beggars can’t be choosers. At least they have the Archon’s location. They can infiltrate his ship, learn about Meridian and its location, and hopefully stop the Archon along the way.

Failure isn’t an option.

Neither is waiting.

xXx

The last thing Scott is expecting when he exits his quarters to head up to the bridge is to have Reyes shove him back inside his room, face twisted in fury. Scott blinks at him, staggering back a brief step, and the doors close. Reyes’ eyes are narrowed into thin, angry slits, and his face is dark with anger.

“Reyes?”

“Are you crazy?” Reyes bites out, still glaring at him, fuming. “Or just plain _stupid_.”

“Uh…”

_SAM, a little help?_

**_Mr. Vidal is experiencing distress in a similar fashion to yours._ **

_Which means…?_

**_He is close to having a panic attack, which I cannot stop._ **

Scott’s eyes widen. _Oh_. He’s not sure what to do with this information. He’s familiar with his own panic attacks – or _near_ panic attacks since SAM won’t let him have one, so he can recognize the wide pupils and the way Reyes can’t seem to focus on anything in particular; he keeps looking at Scott, then behind him, off to the side, back at him… Like he can’t keep still, and Scott knows that feeling entirely too well.

“Hey,” he says, reaching out to grab the smuggler by the shoulders, “it’s okay.”

Reyes exhales roughly and loudly, a puff of breath a bitter laugh in Scott’s face. “It’s _okay_ , he says,” Reyes mutters, glaring at him again, eyes narrowing once more. “This is the very definition of _not okay_. It’s suicidal. And you’re _stupid_.”

“… They told you, huh?”

He was going to tell Reyes their plan to go after the Archon… as soon as they left Kadara, that is. He knew Reyes would try to stop him, which he’s doing now. The only question is: who told on him this time?

“Well, _you_ certainly didn’t,” the smuggler snaps, shoving his grip off, and Scott sighs heavily, backing up a small step as Reyes fumes. “I had to find out you were going on a suicide mission from _Vetra_.”

Vetra. Vetra told on him. Why? She doesn’t even like Reyes, does she? She was advocating rather hard for him to _not_ get with Reyes, because he was a lying smuggler, to which Scott replied she was a smuggler as well but he never held it against her.

Now she’s tattling on him. She’s been spending too much time with SAM, obviously.

“It’s not a suicide mission,” Scott says, but the words feel hollow even to him. It’s why he didn’t want to talk to Reyes before he left; saying goodbye would be easier if he never had to actually speak the words. If he didn’t have Reyes’ physical presence tempting him to stay.

“It _is_ ,” Reyes insists firmly. “And you know it, too. You’re not healed yet. If you go running off to face the Archon-”

“Reyes.”

“Don’t you _Reyes_ me. Why didn’t _you_ tell me?”

“Because you’d try to stop me,” Scott says truthfully. _And because this is too hard. It’s too much. I might not come back._

He can see that as much as anyone. This very well could be a suicide run. He’s not healed; he gets tired so _easily_ , and there’s still shrapnel in his chest waiting to be removed or kill him. He knows how poorly this mission can go. So many things can go wrong. But he doesn’t have time to wait, and everyone knows it. If they wait, the Archon will be long gone and they’ll miss their chance at a life in Andromeda.

Reyes’ golden eyes stare at him, deep into his very soul. “You’re damn right I would. I am. You’re not going.”

Scott blinks at him, wondering if he heard him right. “Uh… what?”

“You’re not going,” Reyes repeats. “What kind of person am I if I just let the Pathfinder run off to his death?”

Scott exhales slowly. “Reyes. You know I have to do this. If we wait for me to heal, the Archon could be long gone by then. We have to move _now_ , or we might lose everything.”

“But _I_ will-” Reyes cuts himself off, mouth snapping shut with an audible click as he glares at Scott once more. “You’re not going.”

“I am.”

“Then I am coming with you.”

“You can’t do that,” Scott says quietly.

“And why not?” Reyes snaps, brow lifting defiantly.

“Because you’re the Charlatan, and you’re needed here.”

“Keema can handle things while I’m gone.”

“Reyes,” he tries to reason. “You left earlier because you were needed, remember? You can’t come with me.” _I don’t want you to come with me._

It’s dangerous; he doesn’t want Reyes to come with him because he doesn’t want anything to happen to him. He needs to know he’s safe here on Kadara.

More than that, though… _I can’t let you watch me die. Just like I can’t watch something happen to you._

If this is going to be a suicide run, then Reyes won’t be witness to it, at the very least. Scott knows the kind of trauma that can leave. He won’t put the smuggler through that.

“I’m coming,” Reyes insists.

“You _can’t_. You’re needed here.”

“Fuck that!”

Scott winces at the sharp tone, the headache from earlier slowly beating behind his eyes. “Reyes… You can’t come with me. I’m sorry.”

_How is he? Still, uh… panicking?_

**_Very near._ **

_Can you… pick up anything through his implant?_

Everyone has an implant, after all. They all had to get them before they came to Andromeda, so the SAMs could monitor everyone and their needs, and adjust accordingly. While SAM won’t be able to read Reyes like he can with Scott, he can at least pick up surface thoughts and feelings.

Asking SAM feels like cheating, especially since he didn’t like it when Reyes did it to him earlier, but he’s out of his depth here. Comforting someone has never been his strong suit, and this situation is already… too much. It’s too much. How is he supposed to calm Reyes’ worries when his head is filled with his own fears?

**_He worries if you leave, you will not come back._ **

An adequate worry, to be honest. Scott worries about that himself.

There’s a good chance he won’t make it back alive. He knows that. In his weakened state… he’s not at his best. He knows that. He knows how risky this is, but they can’t afford to sit around and wait for him to heal properly. That will take too long and they need Meridian to make it here in Andromeda. They have to go, despite Scotts health.

The thought of death scares him. The thought of eternal darkness is terrifying – to be here one minute and gone the next. A whole life just blinked out of existence like it was nothing. It scares him, but in a way… the thought is also relieving.

_I was never cut out for this anyway… At least Cora will know what she’s doing._

If he dies, Cora will become Pathfinder. SAM will be happy.

 ** _This line of thought serves no purpose,_** SAM says somewhat firmly. There’s a sharpness in his head he knows is not his own, but a remnant of the AI.

He sighs. Reyes is watching him carefully, determination furrowing his brow.

“I’m coming with you,” he says again, firmly.

Scott doesn’t want to argue. He doesn’t want their last words to be said in anger, in a stupid argument, but he can’t let Reyes come with him. As much as he would like to have Reyes there, if it’s the end… he can’t. He can’t do that to either of them.

A sad smile tugs at his lips. “You know you can’t,” he says quietly. “You have responsibilities here. This is what you wanted. This is you, as the Charlatan, in charge of Kadara Port. You can’t just leave.”

“Ryder,” Kallo’s voice cuts through the air via the comms, causing Scott to flinch. “We are ready to depart when you are. The crew is all on board.”

“Thanks,” Scott says, clearing his throat, tearing his gaze away from Reyes. “I’ll be up there shortly. Give me five minutes.”

“Of course.” Kallo’s voice cuts out, and then there’s a hand on his cheek, tilting his head until his gaze lands back on Reyes. The glow of Kadara’s fading sunlight makes his eyes shine.

“Give me a half hour to settle matters here, with Keema,” Reyes says quietly. “And I will go with you.”

“You-”

“ _No_. This is not up for debate, _Cariño_.”

Scott can’t help it – he melts at the word, at the affection hidden in Reyes’ voice, the softness of his eyes, the feel of his hand warm against his skin. He melts.

It’s a terrible idea. The worst, actually.

But Reyes is nothing if not stubborn, and Scott _knows_ that. He’ll just keep trying until he gets what he wants.

“Okay,” he breathes, nodding slowly. “Thirty minutes.”

Reyes nods, and steps closer. He tilts his head forward until their foreheads are touching. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but no words come. Instead they remain like that for a few seconds, long enough for Scott to closer his eyes and pretend everything is perfectly _fine_ and he’s just laying in bed with Reyes after a long day… and then Reyes pulls away. His hand is still warm on his cheek, though, and Scott clings to the contact.

“Don’t leave without me,” Reyes tells him.

“I won’t.”

Reyes nods. His hand falls away from Scott’s cheek and he finally takes a step back. Then another, and another.

He leaves the room, and Scott releases a heavy breath.

**_Shall I alert Mr. Jath of the change in plans?_ **

_… No._

The only way to win with Reyes is to give him what he wants.

Or, at least, the facsimile of what he wants.

It’s a terrible thing to do. If he lives through this, he’ll apologize until he’s blue in the face, but he can’t let Reyes come with him.

It’s too dangerous, and he’s needed here, on Kadara. He worked so hard for this, to have Kadara Port as his own; Scott can’t take that away from him. Reyes might want that now, might not care about it right now, but later he’ll realize how wrong it is to give up everything for Scott. These early days after the hostile takeover from Sloane Kelly are crucial; he’s needed here, to oversee things if nothing else. He’s already been away for too long because of Scott. He’s worked so hard for this; he can’t just abandon it and travel into danger with Scott.

Himself facing the eternal darkness of death is one thing.

If he were to escape unharmed and have Reyes face the darkness…

A shiver travels down his spine.

He makes his way out of his room and up onto the bridge, with thirty seconds to spare.

“Okay,” he says, nodding at Kallo. “Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might seem a little out of character for Scott to do this - but keep in mind he's in a fragile state and his fears are getting the best of him, on top of feeling pretty useless with his injury and everything. He has his reasons for doing this; he thinks they're good reasons... Reyes, not so much.
> 
> I debated long and hard about having Reyes with Scott on the mission - and honestly didn't know he wasn't going to be going with Scott until Scott said 'no' to SAM. So. I'm just as shocked as you. But this can work into future plans pretty easily, and much better than my previous plans, so I guess it works.


	17. Trouble by Design

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott's best-laid plans usually lead to chaos. Meanwhile, Reyes waits, and worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from "Too Late to Say Goodbye" by Cage the Elephant.
> 
> Uhh. Hi, guys. Um. Sorry for the delay! I honestly didn't mean to take so long. I had half of this chapter written for the longest time, but then I needed game dialogue and stuff and blahhh I hate looking that shit up. So, that's honestly why it took me so long: pure laziness on my part. But I finally looked it up. And here's this chapter. I hope it makes up for the wait?
> 
> I'm gonna maybe be gone again for a while - I have surgery in about 6 hours. (Fuck, I need sleep.) Maybe I'll sit around and write the whole 3 weeks I'm off work to recover, but maybe I'll spend it in bed in pain, who knows. So, if I disappear again for a little while, you know why. And I will be back - it just might take some time. :)
> 
> I named my two kittens Ryder (the striped one), and Booker (the white one). Booker because he literally sleeps on top of my books, keeps climbing on them and tries to chew on the hardcover corners. Blah. Evil. 
> 
> As always, your lovely comments keep me going. I love them all. Thank you all so very much. This is for you.
> 
> ALSO: the lovely Azek has made a podfic of this story. Their voice is wonderful. Please give it a listen if you feel like it :)  
> http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/25317678?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_113747586

_ Chapter Seventeen: Trouble by Design _

 

_He left without me._

Reyes stares at the empty space which previously held the _Tempest_ , and tries to ignore the despair rising in his throat. He swallows it down, and attempts to blink away the empty image. Scott wouldn’t leave without him. He said he wouldn’t.

 _He lied_ , his mind whispers.

But Scott doesn’t lie, not about this. He wouldn’t. He hates lies.

_But he did. He did lie._

He said he wouldn’t leave without Reyes, and he fucking _did it anyway_. And now Reyes is left staring at the empty space, attempting to come to terms with this feeling of overwhelming _helpless despair_. He’s stuck here, on Kadara. Even if he could get his hands on a ship (which, he _can_ , because he’s the Charlatan and in charge of Kadara now) but he has no idea where to go because Scott didn’t tell him. All he knows is Scott’s hunting the Archon, and with the state he’s already in… the chances of him winning are slim to none. So many things can go wrong. Too many. And Reyes is stuck _here_ , and not there to help him, to make sure he fucking _comes back alive_.

And Scott just _left him here_.

There’s anger, buried deep inside of him. _How dare he! How could he do this to me?_

But it’s overshadowed by the whole, _His last words to me are going to be a lie. He left without me and he’s not coming back._

It’s not the first time he’s thought Scott isn’t coming back. In the early days, the Pathfinder had no real reason to stick around Kadara, or keep returning. He had a few important missions to do here, but after those were completed… why did he stay? Why did he stay and let Reyes get attached?

And then he almost died… No, he _did_ die. He just came back, too. How many times has he done that, now? He’s heard some disturbing stories regarding how Scott became the Pathfinder. It might explain why SAM is so far into his systems.

_He can’t keep doing it._

Sooner or later, his luck is going to run out and he’s going to stop coming back.

And there’s nothing Reyes can do about it, because he was left behind.

Scott left him behind.

The thought is so surreal, and yet he should have seen the signs. The smile on Scott’s face seemed wrong; the cadence only just right, nearly off. Scott’s not the best liar, unless it’s words Reyes wants to hear. Unless he thinks he’s keeping someone safe. Unless he’s hiding how he really feels. Then he’s the fucking champion.

And Reyes should have _known_.

In that moment, staring at the empty space which previously housed the _Tempest_ , he’s more angry with himself than Scott. Because, really: _he should have known_.

He leaves with his duffel, turning his back on the empty space. He’s stuck here. There’s nothing more he can do.

Scott left without him – and if ever comes back, Reyes isn’t sure what he’ll do: crush him to his chest or strangle him.

Until then… all he can do is wait, and hope that Scott’s last words to him won’t be a lie.

xXx

“What’s an ark doing here?” Scott wonders aloud, as they hover near the two connected ships. One is an ark – the salarian one. The other is a massive kett ship, which must house the Archon. Things have just gotten drastically more complicated.

Now, not only does he need the plans for Meridian, not only does he need to get rid of the Archon, but he also has to save thousands upon thousands of salarians, if any are even still alive. A shiver runs up his spin; he releases it on an exhale. He’s not ready for this.

_SAM… help._

**_I am with you, Pathfinder. I will help._ **

The anxiety slips from his mind. It’s not a cure, but at least he feels better for the time being. He can breathe again. He feels adrenaline course through his veins, and all the aches leave him. SAM’s doing, he knows. He’s grateful for the help. He feels better, physically, now than he has in days. Since before he got shot.

He knows this, too, is only temporary. If they are going to make a move, they need to move now.

“I would like to accompany you,” Jaal says, and Scott smiles at him as he nods.

“Alright, sounds good.”

Jaal has made it his personal mission to go after the kett as much as he can, and Scott can’t blame him after what they learned at that kett facility on Voeld. He won’t keep Jaal from this fight.

“You’re gonna need me, too, kid,” Drack speaks up.

Scott smirks. “Of course. Wouldn’t dream of leaving you here.”

A pang shoots through him. _You left Reyes behind._

_I know. And I’ll regret it as long as I live… however long that will be._

He still stands behind his reasons for leaving without the smuggler, though. He’d regret bringing him more than he does leaving him behind. He can’t let Reyes watch him die, and he can’t drag Reyes into danger just because the smuggler is worried about him.

_No one has ever cared so much… about me…_

He exhales slowly. “Alright, people. We get one shot at this. Are you ready?”

“We’re with you,” Suvi answers with a smile.

He nods. “Then let’s do this.”

He sounds more confident than he feels, and that’s all that really matters. The crew needs to believe he knows what he’s doing, even when he’s flying blind.

“I don’t agree with any of this,” Lexi says from the doorway to the bridge. Scott turns to face her, to find her standing with her arms folded across her chest, as she glares at him. “If you come back to me more injured than before… I might have to do something drastic.”

“… What’s drastic?” Scott asks, a little warily.

“It’s never too early for you to renew your shots.”

He winces. He absolutely hates shots. “Alright, I’ll be careful.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Lexi,” he says, watching her, “really.”

She sighs, and nods. “I know I can’t talk you out of it. Look after each other, at least, would you?”

“We will,” Scott assures her.

He’ll make sure the others make it back, even if he can’t himself.

 ** _Do not think so negatively,_** SAM chides. **_You will prevail._**

He wants to believe that.

He sighs. “Alright,” he says, turning back toward Drack and Jaal. “Suit up. We leave in ten.”

xXx

The salarian ark is quiet. Too quiet, if he’s being honest with himself. He can hear heart pounding in his chest, hear his blood rushing through his veins. It’s too loud.

They move silently through the ship. There are pods long the walls; some are empty, some are not. Some aren’t empty but show no signs of life; others, the inhabitants are still alive. That’s something, at least. They’re not entirely too late.

Scott’s not sure what he’d do if that was the case – if they were entirely too late, and all the salarians are dead, and he failed them completely.

A shiver slips down his spine.

They’re looking for Pathfinder Raeka. Identification records reveal Raeka to be a deceased male they find, except SAM tells him Raeka is said to be female, not male.

They switched their records to keep the Pathfinder safe. Smart, Scott decides. Smart and very brave. A noble death if ever there was one. Now they just need to find Raeka, and hope she still lives.

They go searching for her through the pods, SAM equipped with her bio-signature.

It doesn’t take very long before they find her. She’s thankful to be out of that pod, but saddened that someone died in her place. A friend. She insists on helping them free the salarian ark, and Scott can’t exactly tell her _no_ , can he? This is her fight just as much as it’s his, and a part of him is so very _grateful_ to have another Pathfinder. To have an _actual_ Pathfinder. Avitus is a Pathfinder now, but he didn’t start out that way. He had more training than Scott, but Macen was the turian Pathfinder, not Avitus. This is new to him too. Same with the new asari Pathfinder; she wasn’t even trained at all for it, just like Scott.

But Raeka… she knows what she’s doing. For the first time in a while… Scott feels like he can breathe again. He’s not alone. He’s not alone in this fight against the Archon, and he’s no longer the one with the ‘most experience’, according to Avitus. Raeka can make things better. She can take over on this hunt for the Archon, and Scott can fade into the background, where he’s most comfortable.

He can fade into the background and return to Reyes on Kadara. If Reyes is still willing to have him, that is. If he ever forgives Scott for ditching him like he did.

Guilt gnaws at him like it does every time he thinks of Reyes. He hated lying to him… but it would be so much worse with him here. Reyes is safe on Kadara, and Sara is safe on the Hyperion docked at the Nexus. They’re safe, even if Scott’s not.

The majority of his crew are safe, too, back on the _Tempest_ , cloaked. And he’ll do everything he can to make sure Jaal and Drack make it back to safety, even if he can’t himself.

SAM will like it in Cora’s head.

She’s much more together than Scott ever was, or could ever hope to be.

_SAM._

**_Yes, Pathfinder?_ **

_… If I die… tell Reyes I’m sorry. And…_ He exhales slowly, as they move through the halls, rolling the tension out of his shoulders. _Tell him I’m sorry, and I love him. Tell him why I had to leave him behind. You know._

He doesn’t need to expressly tell SAM. SAM is in his head; he knows. He knows why Scott left Reyes behind as clearly as though they were his own thoughts.

 ** _I will tell him,_** SAM assures him, and that knot in Scott’s stomach loosens slightly. **_However, they will be hollow words coming from me. He needs to hear them from you._**

_Just tell him, please. And tell him it’s not his fault._

Reyes is probably blaming himself right now. Scott knows the power of self-doubt and blame all too well.

 ** _I will tell him,_** SAM says again.

_Thanks, SAM._

xXx

Raeka wants to help, but she’s weakened after just getting out of the pod. Her limbs are heavy and tired, and Scott knows the feeling all too well. There’s determination in her eyes, though. She won’t quit. Scott won’t ask her to.

This is her ship, her home, her fight. Just as much as it is his.

Together, maybe they can do this.

Except, the more rational part of his mind (SAM) tells him how tired she is, how inexperienced with the kett. Although she is an official Pathfinder, one of the few actually trained and qualified for such a job, she hasn’t been fighting the kett like Scott has. She knows so little about them. That, plus her weakened state, makes Scott an absolute hypocrite because he tells her to get to safety, and let him take care of things.

He's hurt, too, but with SAM’s help, Raeka has no idea. For all she knows, he’s just naturally pale. Raeka argues only briefly in his decision, evidence that she’s more exhausted than she’s letting on, and she says she will go somewhere safe but remain on the comms.

They part ways, and continue through the darkened halls of the salarian ship. Finally, they make their way onto the kett ship. Little changes. The halls are still dark and dimly lit; the atmosphere is still too quiet. Scott hates it. His skin crawls, and he feels like he’s being watched.

“I don’t like this,” he murmurs aloud, and Jaal agrees with him with a grunt.

“It is too quiet,” the angaran says.

_SAM, anything?_

**_There are kett in the next room. Proceed with caution._ **

“Game faces, guys,” Scott says, giving them a nod.

They push into the next room. There are kett everywhere, coming out of the shadows and around corners. Exhaustion burns through Scott, and he’s left panting after throwing a biotic lance at one of them. Numb fingers grasp his pistol, and SAM helps him auto-aim and fire steadily.

 ** _You are losing momentum,_** SAM informs him. **_I am compensating for your lowered energy levels, but even I can only help so much._**

_I know, SAM._

He knows he’s in a weakened, fragile state. He knows he shouldn’t even be fighting right now. But he has no choice.

SAM will help him as much as he can. There will come a point when he can do nothing more, though.

Scott can’t think about that right now.

Instead, they keep moving, through more and more kett, searching for a control room of sorts. Something that will tell them where Meridian is, and what the Archon’s plans with it are.

As they fight through kett and he grows more and more exhausted, even with SAM’s interference, he can’t help but think of Reyes. He can only imagine what the smuggler is going through right now – even as a part of him is curious how someone could possibly care that much about him. But Reyes does care, and he’s sincere in his affection. For the first time in a long time… Scott actually matters to someone, for reasons other than being the Pathfinder, and he actually _believes_ that someone cares about him.

And what did he do?

He left Reyes on Kadara.

If their roles were reversed, and Reyes did this to Scott… he’s not sure what he’d do. Be wracked with worry, insatiable fear, and a deep-seeded anger – mostly at himself. He can only imagine how Reyes is feeling right now, stuck on Kadara. If their roles were switched, and Scott was left waiting for an answer that might never come… he’s not entirely sure what he’d do. Lose his mind, probably.

The ship rumbles. Scott staggers, and looks around to make sure the others are okay, before he asks what just happened. SAM isn’t entirely certain, but takes a guess that someone is hacking the kett’s systems, turning the automated defenses off for them.

 _Raeka,_ Scott thinks, even as he frowns. _She didn’t stay put like I said._

But why would she? Sure, she felt weak after waking from her pod, but she is a Pathfinder, and Scott technically isn’t her boss. She doesn’t have to listen to him.

“Raeka?” he tries on the comms.

“We’re helping,” Raeka says.

“We’re?”

“My second and I are helping, along with a small group. We’ll sneak around and shut down defenses, and you get that intel and stop the Archon. He can’t get both of us at once.”

She has a point, but even so… “You’re not ready for this.”

The words come out more bitter than he intends. Raeka is ready to be Pathfinder; it’s what she was trained for. However, she has little experience fighting kett, and now certainly isn’t the time to learn.

“I’m not sitting idly by while you do all the hard work,” Raeka says firmly. “We’re helping.”

He sighs heavily, shaking his head. Pain throbs behind his eyes, evidence of his exhaustion, despite SAM’s help. “Alright,” he says finally. “But be careful.”

“You do the same. Pathfinder out.”

 

A shiver slips down his spine that has nothing to do with his thoughts. The hair on the back of his neck stands upright, and he tenses, tilting his head over his shoulder to give a warning to Drack and Jaal, but before he can utter a word, they’re lifted off the ground in some kind of force field of sorts, immobilizing them. Scott’s pistol drops limply from his fingers and hits the ground with a soft clank. Drack’s shotgun and Jaal’s rifle are louder.

 _A trap,_ he thinks, lips pursing. Honestly, he’s surprised he can move his head or facial muscles, given the field surrounding him, keeping him firmly in place. He attempts to pull, twist in any direction, anything to get free, but nothing works. He remains perfectly still, frozen in mid-air, and a rising sense of panic settles in to suffocate him.

He hates being helpless. He hates being trapped.

He can’t move.

“It’s useless to struggle,” a voice says, sending little tendrils of cold through his spine.

Footsteps approach. He slides his gaze over as much as his held position will allow, and finds the Archon approaching him. A sneer slips across his face; at least he still has control of those muscles. The Archon stops in front of him, looking him over, and he can guess at what thoughts are going through the kett’s mind.

Phrases like “I was expecting more,” or “you are pathetic.” Scott doesn’t want to hear them right now – he already knows.

So he grins. “I’d shake your hand but, uh… well, you’d have to release me for that.”

The Archon just blinks at him. “I’ve been in this forsaken cluster for decades, surrounded by amoeba,” he begins, and Scott has just enough time to think, _oh, great, monologuing,_ before the Archon slips past him, walking around his crew, and continues talking. “Then you arrive, a human able to do the unthinkable. You even evaded me.”

He makes it sound like it’s such a feat to evade him. Maybe it is. Scott’s mind flashes back to that surprise attack, pinned against the Scourge. If SAM hadn’t been with him, and helped plot a course through it and wrestle control back from the Archon… their journey would have ended there.

“Such an unlikely rival,” the Archon continues, circling back in front of Scott, where he stands, staring him down. “It was almost invigorating to have one. And yet, it’s a fitting end.”

There’s a threat clear in not only the words and inflection, but in those glazed eyes. Scott’s jaw locks tensely. “I take it we’re past hugging this out,” he says.

The side of the Archon’s mouth twitches up into a sneer if ever there was one, and suddenly there’s a hand grasping his throat, choking him. In his frozen position, he can do nothing to stop it.

“Hey,” Drack snaps, “I dare you to do that to me.”

A needle slips into the vulnerable skin at the back of his neck. The Archon’s hand releases him, and he sucks in a slow breath. Pain radiates from the puncture, cold and hot all at once, and a crawling sense of _wrong_ floods through him. He shivers, unable to stop himself, even as he narrows his eyes defiantly at the Archon.

“A first sample,” the Archon says, pulling away. “Your testing begins now. I will learn your secret soon enough.”

 _SAM,_ he thinks. The Archon’s talking about SAM. Scott can’t let him get his hands on the AI.

“Is that the best you got?” Scott asks.

The ship jerks again. Raeka is busy, he can’t help but admire. The Archon looks away, and talks to someone not there – he must have an earpiece.

“Report,” he says simply. A brief pause. “Await my arrival.” Then the Archon looks back at him, and he really doesn’t like having that emotionless gaze focused solely on him. The Archon steps closer, invading his personal space, and everything in his mind screams at him to move away, but he’s frozen here. “Save your strength, human.”

And then he’s slowly backing up, watching Scott all the while, and Scott can’t help but remember Reyes doing the same. A pang of longing shoots through him; he wishes Reyes was here. He wishes the smuggler was with him, even as he also is happy he’s not. If these are to be his last moments… it’s best Reyes doesn’t witness them. Even if a part of Scott’s soul doesn’t want to be alone at the end.

He won’t be alone, he tells him. He’ll have SAM.

Speaking of SAM.

The Archon leaves the room, no doubt to go take care of Raeka, and they need to be out of here before that can happen.

“SAM,” he whispers, the pain in the back of his neck and head momentarily stunning him, “any ideas on how to get out of here? I’d like to get down now.”

**_“I’m sensing a biological transmitter in your blood stream,”_ ** _SAM says. **“Attempting to neutralize it.”**_

“Okay,” Scott sighs, “that’s priority two for sure. But we kind of need to get down. Any thoughts on that?”

 ** _You won’t like it,_** SAM tells him, privately.

Another shiver flits down his spine. _Just tell me._

 ** _“The containment fields only interact with living matter,”_** SAM says aloud, so they all can hear. A coil of dread tightens in Scott’s stomach; somehow, he knows where this is going, even if his mind outright refuses to acknowledge it. **_“If you expire, the field around you will extinguish until manually reset.”_**

There’s a lingering quiet in SAM’s pause. No one wants to say anything. Maybe the others haven’t figured it out yet, he’s not sure; but he himself doesn’t know what to say, because he can’t see any other options.

**_“As you know, my access to your physiology allows me to enhance your vital signs when required. I can also do the opposite.”_ **

Scott’s eyes fall closed. “You wanna kill me.”

**_“I can see no other option. Your crew will certainly send a rescue team, but the odds of them mounting a successful mission are-”_ **

“I know, SAM.” He doesn’t need to tell him the odds.

“I don’t like this plan, Ryder,” Jaal comments from somewhere behind him. He can’t crane his neck enough to see.

“Me neither, kid,” Drack adds.

**_“Once the field has released you, I will attempt resuscitation.”_ **

SAM said that once before, so long ago, when he said his sudden voice in his head would give him a heart attack. Funny, to think his life might hinge on that now.

 _What about the shrapnel?_ He asks privately. _What aren’t you telling me?_

 ** _The shrapnel complicates matters, as does your already weakened system,_** SAM intones. **_Stopping your heart in your fragile state, and then attempting to resuscitate, could shift the shrapnel enough to nick your heart, and you will bleed out within 2.3 minutes._**

 _Damned if I do, damned if I don’t._ If he waits, and doesn’t go through with SAM’s crazy plan, whatever this is in his system will just keep moving, spreading through him, and he doesn’t want to find out what it’s for. Perhaps it’s the first step toward becoming a kett; maybe this is how it starts. And he can’t – he _won’t_ become one of them. If he has to die to keep that from happening, then so be it.

Cora will be a great Pathfinder. At least she’s not here with him; he learned from his mistake on Eos. He tries not to take her with him if he can afford to keep her on the ship. She’s not happy about the arrangement, but she doesn’t openly argue with him. That’s something, at least. The only times he’s really taken her with him have involved missions important to her, such as the asari ark.

She will be a great Pathfinder, and SAM will be happy with her. SAM will transfer to her, and they can stop the Archon.

That does nothing to help Jaal and Drack, though. If they do this, and SAM can’t resuscitate him, the others will remain trapped here. They will be killed, or worse, turned into kett themselves. He and Jaal haven’t spoken openly about it, but he knows that’s one of Jaal’s greatest fears. After all he’s seen, Scott can’t blame him.

If he goes through with SAM’s plan, and SAM successfully resuscitates him… at least he’ll have a chance to open the field and get the others out, even if the shrapnel moves and he bleeds out here in this room. He can force himself up and open the field for the others; he can do that much at least. And then SAM can transfer to Cora.

 ** _I do not appreciate these thoughts,_** SAM says suddenly, sounding decidedly less… robotic than he did before. Scott exhales slowly.

_If I don’t… make it out of this, tell Reyes I’m sorry._

He opens his eyes and smiles, despite the fear mingling with the dread in his stomach. “Alright, let’s do this,” he says with a confidence he doesn’t feel.

There’s a pause, and he wonders if SAM has changed his mind. But of course he won’t do that, because that would be… ridiculous. It would make him emotionally compromised, because this is the only logical step. It’s the only choice they have. The AI can’t become emotionally-

There’s an invisible hand around his heart, clenching, _clenching_ -

He can’t breathe.

In the end, he doesn’t even have time to gasp as the darkness covers his mind.

xXx

_“Scott…”_

Someone is calling his name.

Someone…

There’s pain, everywhere, all around him, inside of him – he can’t fucking _breathe_. His chest is so tight.

Images rush his mind from every angle, diving out of forgotten crevices, all vying for his sole attention. Overwhelming is an understatement. Fractured memories, moments lost in time, his mother smiling, his sister laughing, his father _proud_ , and… and… _Reyes_ …

And then – the pressure lifts. Air rushes into his lungs and he sits up without realizing what he’s doing. He’s freezing, and his heart races painfully in his chest, slamming against his ribcage with such a vengeance, and-

_Oh, fuck…_

Where is he? What happened? What’s going on?

Too much. It’s all too much.

His vision is blurred by tears that won’t fall, and he’s not the one holding them back. What…?

 ** _You are alive,_** SAM says, and if he wasn’t so cold and tired and sore, he’d jump out of his skin at the sudden intrusion. **_You are alive,_** the AI repeats. **_Breathe, slowly. Do not panic. You are alive._**

He releases a shaky, ragged breath, then another, and another. Until finally he remembers where he is, what happened, and-

He pushes to his feet. Turns slowly to face the others, and smiles. “You two look comfortable.”

“Down. Now,” Drack says, narrowing his eyes.

Scott walks over to a console, and lifts his hand. As soon as his palm touches it, the energy field disappears and the others drop to the ground.

He can feel their eyes on him.

“We need to find Raeka,” he says, because that’s all he can handle right now. That’s all he can focus on.

If he focuses on anything else, he’ll-

_SAM. Keep me focused._

**_I will do my best._ **

xXx

As the Charlatan, he has spies everywhere. That’s kind of his thing.

Even so, his reach only stretches so far. No one anywhere (that he has connections) has seen or heard from the human Pathfinder. His few contacts on the Nexus don’t even know where he is. All they know is he went after the Archon, and things have been quiet since then.

For days, it’s like this. Reyes struggling for news, a stubborn part of him refusing to let hope die, while the more cynical, rational part of him knows it’s futile. Scott’s not coming back.

_He’s dead._

He must be, or surely he would have let Reyes know _something_ by now. It’s been _days_. Four of them, to be exact. Four days since he last saw Scott Ryder. Four days since the Pathfinder set course for danger, to secure their place in Andromeda. Four days since Scott lied to him.

Four long days.

Hope stubbornly refuses to die, but even so, anger sets in more firmly.

Scott left him behind, and went off to die.

Reyes let himself care, and look what happened. This is why it’s not a good idea. Never a good idea.

He should have known better than to let himself get close. It never ends well.

But Scott made him think it could end differently. For just a brief moment… Reyes Vidal was happy.

Now it’s shattered just like everything else.

He can’t help but think: _would Scott have let me join him if I wasn’t the Charlatan?_

If things had gone down differently at the showdown with Sloane… would Scott have let him accompany him? Would Reyes be so worried, if Scott wasn’t already injured and healing?

_Yes. I would worry._

Reyes would always worry about Scott. It’s just how things are now. When you let yourself care about someone so much… they become vital to you, necessary on every level, and you’ll do anything to protect them, to protect yourself.

As much as he’s angry with himself for letting Scott lie to him like that, for not realizing and demanding to go with him _right that moment_ , he is also growing increasingly angry with the Pathfinder, as well.

_How could he do this to me._

Surely Scott knew what this would do to him. Surely he knows how much Reyes cares.

And he went off to die alone anyway.

A shaky breath escapes the smuggler. Admitting defeat was never his strong suit; he never knows when to quit.

In this case, he can’t quit Scott.

He can’t give up on him, despite how hopeless the situation seems. He needs to have faith that Scott will pull another miracle out of his ass and save the day, and return to him in one piece. He needs to have faith that SAM will protect Scott, even if Scott can’t protect himself. He needs to have faith.

Faith has never been his strong suit, either.

And then finally, on the sixth day of Scott’s absence, news arrives.

The salarian ark has reached the Nexus. They have the details and the location of Meridian. It’s time to take Andromeda from the kett.

There’s no news on Scott. Everyone praises his deeds but no one cares enough to ask how he’s doing, so Reyes has no information regarding his well-being. It frustrates him.

He must be alive, if everyone is praising him. No one is saying ‘it’s tragic’ or anything; he has to be alive.

Reyes doesn’t let the relief seep in. He can’t until he sees Scott for himself. Until he can pull him close and kiss him and assure himself he’s alive, and then strangle him for doing this to Reyes. For putting him through this. For lying to his face.

 _Aren’t you a hypocrite?_ a part of him whispers. _You lie all the time._

He does – but Scott doesn’t. That’s not who he is. So he knows, deep down, that Scott has his own reasons for doing this, reasons which seem important to the Pathfinder, but to Reyes… the reasons aren’t good enough.

He’ll never forget how it felt to return to the docks to find the _Tempest_ already gone. To realize Scott left without him. To realize he might never see the Pathfinder again.

Reyes doesn’t do feelings. He never has. They’re messy, and in the end, he ruins everything anyway. All it does is hurt him, and he is so tired of being hurt. That’s why he came to Andromeda – for a fresh start, to finally be someone. And now… he’s let Scott get in too close, and he _loves_ that damn idiot, and-

His omni-tool beeps. A new message. He exhales, and brings up the orange display.

It’s a voice message, from Scott Ryder of all people.

His heart lurches even as it drops. The resulting feeling is disorientating.

 _“Hey…”_ Scott says slowly, in the recording. Reyes’ heart stutters again at hearing his voice. He’s okay. He’s alive. The smuggler’s eyes fall shut. _“I know you probably hate me right now… but I just… wanted to let you know I’m okay. We didn’t stop the Archon but we did find the location of Meridian. We’re assembling enough people to… stage an attack and take it from him.”_

Reyes snorts. Scott’s work is never done, it seems. Also – what? He thinks Reyes hates him? He’s unbelievably angry with him, and he wants to hold him or strangle him, but he could never hate him. It’s far too late for that now.

_“I have so much to tell you. And… I owe you an explanation. As for why I left. I just don’t want to do it like this… it just seems impersonal in a message, you know? I was hoping we could talk face to face. I’ll be on Kadara soon. If you want to talk. And if not I totally understand, and I’m sorry I left you there like that but I just – I had to. I’m sorry. I’ll explain if you let me and if not… then… I still love you. And I’m sorry.”_

Scott rambling is adorable, even if the words are little daggers to Reyes’ heart. _I still love you._ Those were Scott’s words.

Reyes is in way too deep to back out now. To ever back out.

Scott once said he was stuck with him.

 _Let me be stuck with you,_ he thinks.

 _“Anyway, I uh… this is getting long. I just wanted to let you know I was okay, and I’m heading that way if… I mean, if you want to talk. Could you… maybe reply? And let me know if you don’t so I don’t make a giant fool of myself landing on Kadara to look for you?”_ A breathy exhale. _“Sorry. I just – sorry. It’s been a long week. I just really want to see you, if that’s… okay, I mean. And. Yeah. Now I sound desperate. SAM, end recording.”_

The message ends.

Reyes swallows thickly, voice caught in his throat. He can’t trust himself to speak, so he sends Scott a quick email.

_To: Scott Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Subject: Get your ass back here_

_I am unbelievably angry with you, but I want you here. Top speed, all the way here, do you hear me, space hero? I’ll be waiting for you._


	18. It's Too Late to Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reunion between Scott and Reyes goes differently than either of them thought it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "Too Late to Say Goodbye" by Cage the Elephant (obviously).
> 
> I really don't like this chapter. Like, at all. I rewrote it several times, in different POVs. I debated deleting the whole thing and restarting from scratch. But fuck it. Here it is, but I don't like it at all. I don't think it's very good. It also got really long - sorry?
> 
> I had my surgery, and woke up 4 times during it even though I fucking warned them, "hey, I'm immune to a lot of pain shit, and stuff that's supposed to knock me out typically doesn't, so..." and they said "nah, this will knock you out, no worries" and nope. I woke up 4 times. I don't remember waking up, so that's good I guess, but I got billed for them having to knock me out 4 times. That's $180 a hit. Fuck me. And if I disappear, I have died from orajel. I have been eating it and I'm pretty sure I've overdosed - so if I vanish, I am dead, and you know the culprit. 
> 
> If I make it through the next few days until I go back to the dentist - then maybe I'll write more, who knows. 
> 
> Also, please feel free to check out the lovely Azek's reading of Back Against the Wall. I put the link in last chapter's notes :) They are amazing! Give it a listen!
> 
> As always, comments are absolute love and keep me going <3

_ Chapter Eighteen: It’s Too Late to Say Goodbye _

 

There are steel bands around his chest, clenching, _clenching_ -

He can’t breathe. There’s no air to be found.

He’s suffocating.

Scott wakes gasping for breath, covered in a cold sweat, and familiar pain shooting through him as he quickly sits up. The room is familiar and warm; it’s _his_ room. Everything is in place. Nothing is wrong. His eyes fall shut and he releases a trembling breath, memories of _cold, dark, suffocating_ filtering through his mind, leaping from forgotten corners.

 ** _You are alive,_** SAM tells him, as he always does when Scott wakes from that particular nightmare. It’s been three days since they launched an attack on the Archon’s ship. Three days since everything went to hell. Three days since Scott Ryder died for a good 124 seconds.

He asked for the specifics. How long it took to resuscitate him, how much damage was done, his chances of a full recovery – he’d asked for everything SAM could tell him. By some miracle, SAM’s efforts didn’t cause the shrapnel in his chest to move enough to nick his heart. It shifted, but not enough to cause him to bleed out. Ever since then, he’s felt cold all over, despite the warm temperature of his room, and he’s so tired all the time. Everything aches, and sleep… is not his friend. It’s never been his friend.

 ** _You are alive,_** SAM says again.

Yeah. He is alive. Somehow.

He’s alive, and they’re due to arrive at Kadara later today. _Reyes_. He can only imagine what the smuggler must think of him. Reyes’ message was short and to the point – it said for Scott to get back there, but the smuggler is angry with him. Scott doesn’t blame him. He’s angry with himself because of what he did to Reyes, but it was necessary.

By some stroke of luck, he lived. He made it off the Archon’s ship. They didn’t stop the Archon, but they did recover his plans for Meridian, and Meridian’s location. They saved the salarian ark, too, and Drack’s missing scouts from Elaaden. Sadly, Pathfinder Raeka perished as a result. Scott chose to save the krogan scouts over the salarian Pathfinder, and for that… he’ll never forgive himself. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he chose the opposite, either. Either way, people died, and that’s on him. That’s his fault, because he was weak.

He’s always so weak.

He scrubs a hand across his face, and climbs out of bed. The floor is cool against his bare feet, but he’s always cold these days. Lexi says it’s because of poor circulation; the shrapnel didn’t pierce his heart, but it did shift, and it’s putting undue pressure on the vital organ. If they don’t take care of this soon…

He can’t think of that right now.

Reyes. He just wants to think about Reyes.

And the fact this is almost over: they have a way to Meridian, and if they can just take that from the Archon’s control, everything will be okay. Everything _has_ to be okay. Too much has gone wrong already.

They’ll find Meridian, and defeat the Archon, and everything will be _fine_.

And he can stay with Reyes on Kadara. There are other Pathfinders; none of them the original Pathfinders, but each ark still has their own Pathfinder. They can handle everything after the Archon is defeated. Most of them were trained, far more than Scott. They’ll be fine, and he can stay with Reyes on Kadara.

The thought is nice, even if there’s a niggling doubt whispering that things won’t be so simple.

 ** _Perhaps you should visit the med-bay,_** SAM advises. **_Dr. T’Perro is awake._**

_Yeah… no thanks, SAM. I’m fine._

**_You are not._ **

He winces involuntarily, having SAM call him out like that. Of course the AI sees through him; they share a mind, after all.

**_You are having nightmares. While I am not organic, the act of dying is traumatic nevertheless. You should seek assistance in this matter._ **

A part of him knows SAM is right. He does need help. He’s not okay. How can he be okay with _dying_? With the fact _SAM_ killed him, however temporarily it might have been? Yeah, SAM brought him back, but he’s so far into his systems that he can stop Scott’s heart at will, and that’s _terrifying_. He trusts SAM, but the thought is still worrisome.

 ** _I would never hurt you,_** SAM says, sounding almost offended.

But that’s ridiculous. He’s pretty sure AIs can’t get offended. His father wouldn’t program them like that.

And then his mind flashes back to just prior to his ‘death’. Flashes back to SAM’s hesitance to kill him, despite the fact it was their only option at the time.

Can AIs become emotionally compromised?

That’s too much for him right now. He shoves the thoughts away.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he mumbles as he walks across the room, toward his private bathroom.

**_Very well. Entering privacy mode._ **

SAM retreats further into his mind. Scott appreciates the fact SAM tries to give him privacy, even if it’s only a facsimile of the real thing. He has no privacy anymore, but the fact SAM tries… it leaves him relaxing somewhat.

He enters the bathroom, and strips from his clothes. He’s lost a lot of weight these past few weeks – his ribs are starting to show. His skin is sickly white, too – far paler than normal. It makes the splotch of freckles across his collarbone stand out even more, as well as the ones on his face. For a moment, he looks at his appearance, noticing the differences. He was never exactly ‘tan’, and never especially muscular, but now… he just looks sick. Gaunt and pale. Sickly.

_How can Reyes even look at me…_

He’s certainly nothing to look at right now.

The bandage on his chest is gone, finally. What remains is a mottled mess of dark flesh contrasting with his pale skin, evidence of the bullet which nearly ended his life. He knows Sloane Kelly had armor-piercing shredder ammo; of course she did, she was the Queen of Kadara, after all. Still – the thought that a pistol nearly took him out is more than a little demeaning. Another week or so with the dermal regenerator, and the scar will all but vanish, leaving only scar tissue behind beneath the pale skin, and maybe a faint white circle. The evidence of his near-death will be wiped from his body, but not from his mind. Never from his mind.

It's not the first time he’s nearly died, not even since coming to Andromeda. First there was Habitat 7, the ambush on Kadara, the elevator falling, being shot… and now, SAM killing him.

A shiver slips down his spine. He turns from the mirror, jaw set tightly, and turns on the hot water. After switching it over to the showerhead, he steps inside, despite the scalding temperature.

It does little to wash away the cold lingering inside of him.

xXx

When word arrives that the _Tempest_ has landed on Kadara, Reyes is already waiting at the docking bay hanger where the ship usually lands. He’s been keeping tabs on the ship ever since it entered orbit, and hurried toward the docks to wait. He isn’t quite sure what he’s going to say – isn’t sure if he’s going to shout at Scott and throttle him, or if he’s going to pull him close and never let go again. He’s so very torn. Is this how Scott felt upon awakening after being shot? Torn because of what he felt for Reyes, and Reyes’ actions? At the time, he thought Reyes was using him, and thus was angry and hurt at being lied to; he pushed Reyes away. But then when Reyes left, it was Cora of all people who hunted him down and demanded he get back in there so Scott would stop giving them the ‘kicked puppy’ look, which meant Scott still cared.

The Pathfinder felt torn then, and Reyes feels torn now, for different, yet oddly similar, reasons.

Scott was angry Reyes lied to him, and thought he was using the Pathfinder the whole time. Reyes is angry Scott lied to him… but he kind of knows why Scott did it.

He knows that ‘being used’ doesn’t factor into it, at all. Scott cares about him, and he does a terrible job of hiding it. It’s refreshing, really, to be cared about so openly, so freely. Never in his entire life has anyone ever cared about him like this – and that is why this whole situation hurts so much.

Because Scott left without him, and there was every chance he wouldn’t come back. There was every chance Reyes would never see him again.

But he defied the odds, again. Because that’s what he does as Pathfinder – he defies the odds, and he comes back alive. He’s a hero. He’s Reyes’ space hero.

And now he’s here again. The _Tempest_ is a spectacular as the last time Reyes saw it – and he remembers, with a pang of anger and hurt, what it felt like to stand here staring at the empty space previously occupied by the _Tempest_.

Reyes sighs and scrubs a hand over his face, scraping against the growing stubble there. He needs to shave, but in the past week that’s honestly not been a priority. He probably looks like hell, but he’ll worry about that after he’s seen Scott. After he sees for himself the Pathfinder is as fine as he claims, sees for himself he’s alive.

It’s a vital need, down to his very core.

It takes a while, but finally, the doors to the _Tempest_ open. The landing platform lowers. Reyes hesitates only briefly before he steps onboard, when he doesn’t see Scott anywhere. Cora meets him just inside the _Tempest_ , and his shoulders haunch, rearing for a fight. If she thinks she can keep him from Scott, she is sorely mistaken.

“Hey,” she says, surprising him. “Scott’s in his room. Be easy on him, yeah?”

And then she brushes past him, leaving the _Tempest_ , and Reyes is left staring after her. She is… giving him permission to see Scott? And what does she mean, be easy on him? Reyes is furious with him, but all of that anger has taken a backseat to this vital, primary need to make sure he’s okay. To make sure this isn’t an illusion brought on by hope, because hope is a dangerous thing.

He wonders, briefly, when he became so attached to someone that the thought of them being anything but okay is… _too much_. But it happened, and questioning it won’t help; he cares about Scott far too much to ever quit him now. He’s an addiction Reyes never expected, but he’s all too powerless to stop it. He’s all too _unwilling_ to stop it.

He wants Scott, more than he’s ever wanted anything for himself – more than he wants to be someone, more than he wants to be the Charlatan, and that should frighten him. It should shake him to his very core that one single person can alter his thoughts so much, can change his wants and desires without even trying – but that’s part of what he loves about Scott Ryder. Scott didn’t even _try_ to sway Reyes. He accepts him completely as he is, accepts that he’ll always have secrets. He accepts him for who and what he is, and no one has ever given him that common curtesy before. He wants Scott… and then Scott left him behind so he could go die alone.

And Reyes will never be okay with that.

The walk to Scott’s room is both an eternity and entirely too short. He hasn’t thought of any words to say, or how to start this conversation, when the doors to Scott’s quarters open and he steps inside. Scott’s back is to him, the Pathfinder frozen halfway into a new shirt. He slowly continues pulling it down to cover his middle, but Reyes has already seen the outline of his ribs and pale skin. His jaw clenches tight even as they both stand there, waiting.

“Scott,” he says quietly, finally, causing Scott’s shoulders to stiffen. “Look at me.”

“Go ahead,” Scott says, without turning. “Yell at me.”

“Scott…” Reyes swallows around the lump in his throat. “Would you please look at me?”

Scott sighs heavily, and then slowly turns, with a dejected gaze downward, eyes focused on the ground. Reyes’ jaw tightens further at the sight of his space hero – dark rings around his eyes, his skin so pale, the blue color of his eyes muted… he looks like hell.

“I’m sorry,” Scott says quickly. “I’m so sorry. Go ahead – yell at me.”

He is unaware he’s moving until he’s suddenly right in front of Scott, causing the Pathfinder to glance up at him. Those blue pools shouldn’t be so dark and uncertain; Scott is _worried_. Scared. Of Reyes? He should never be frightened of Reyes. There’s a pain in the smuggler’s chest that has nothing to do with anything physical.

He brings his hands up, cupping both sides of Scott’s face. His skin is cooler than usual. “Sweetheart,” he says softly, looking into those muted pools, “you look terrible.”

Scott swallows thickly; Reyes watches, absently, as his Adam’s apple bobs once, twice. Scott opens his mouth, then closes it, struggling for words. Reyes releases his face, instead grabbing his hand to lead him toward the bed.

“Sit,” he tells the Pathfinder.

Scott sits, forever watching him, words caught in his throat. Reyes knows that feeling all too well.

“You’re not – angry?” Scott asks finally, frowning at him.

Reyes inhales slowly. “I’m beyond furious with you,” he admits, watching Scott’s shoulders fall, and his gaze dart away. He hooks a finger under Scott’s chin, raising his gaze back toward him. “But we’ll deal with that later. Right now, just let me look at you.”

“You don’t hate me?”

Reyes closes his eyes. “No, Sweetheart,” he says, shaking his head. “I could never hate you.” _I don’t know who ruined your confidence so much, but if I ever meet them, I am going to destroy them,_ he thinks, sitting next to Scott on the bed, opening his eyes. Scott’s watching him carefully. “Tell me what happened. What’s got you so shaken?”

Scott’s eyes dart away once more as his teeth catch his lower lip. “We didn’t stop the Archon. But we got the location of Meridian, and… we found the salarian ark.”

“I know,” Reyes says, nodding, keeping his voice calm and quiet, as though he’s talking to a skittish animal. “I heard about that already. I want to know what happened to _you_.”

Scott’s whole body stiffens. “Nothing.”

“You are a terrible liar,” Reyes tells him. “That’s probably for the best, considering you’re a space hero.”

Scott mumbles something.

“What was that?”

“I’m not a space hero.”

“I’m pretty sure you are.”

“I left her to die.”

Reyes frowns. “Left who to die?”

“Raeka.”

“Who is Raeka?”

“The salarian Pathfinder,” Scott clarifies, gaze focused solidly on the floor, mouth a firm white line. “I left her to die.”

“I’m sure there was more to it than that,” Reyes assures him, because he can’t see Scott simply leaving someone to die without a good reason.

But he can at least see why this is weighing on him so much – why he has that troubled look in his eyes. The guilt must be gnawing at him – one of the downsides of being a space hero.

“Tell me,” Reyes says.

“The Archon had krogan scouts from Elaaden,” Scott tells him quietly. “He was… exalting them. Turning them into kett.”

A shiver runs down Reyes’ spine. He’s heard all he ever wants to hear of exaltation. The thought that anyone could be turned into a kett… and turn on their friends and loved ones… The thought is terrifying.

“Raeka, she… was helping us. She created a distraction so we could get away, and…” Scott exhales loudly, shaking his head. “And I chose to save the scouts instead of her. It’s my fault she died.”

“That’s not your fault,” Reyes tells him. “I’m sure you had every reason to save those scouts, and there was nothing to tell you Raeka couldn’t handle herself. Did she ask you to come to her aid?”

“… No,” Scott murmurs. “The opposite, actually.”

“She knew what she was getting herself into. She didn’t need or want saving. And if you left those scouts there to be changed… you would have had to fight them later down the road, and I can only imagine what exalted krogan look like. It’s not an image I particularly need in my head.”

“I could have saved her,” Scott argues. “If I wasn’t so weak-”

“Stop right there,” Reyes says, narrowing his eyes at him. Scott must feel his gaze because even with his own eyes focused on the ground still, he stiffens and snaps his mouth shut. “You are not _weak_. You have never been weak. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“I’m pretty sure Drack’s carried me.”

“I didn’t say a thing about physical strength, did I?”

Scott goes quiet.

“You’re not weak,” Reyes repeats firmly. “If you went after Raeka and let the krogan remain as they were – how would you feel then? Would that be better or worse?”

“It’s still my fault.”

“Better or worse?”

“… I don’t know,” Scott mumbles. “They were being experimented on, slowly turned into exalted. That’s no life. And it was the good of the many over the good of the few… but Raeka was an experienced Pathfinder, and we needed her.”

“You give yourself little credit,” Reyes tells him. “She might have been trained as Pathfinder, more than you, but when it comes to experience in Andromeda, I’m fairly certain you have everyone beat.” He places a hand on Scott’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

Scott exhales slowly, but doesn’t argue. Reyes know they have a long way to go before Scott believes this, but at least it’s progress. It’s a step in the right direction, that he’s not outright arguing with him right now. Reyes keeps his hand on the Pathfinder’s shoulder, even as they sit there in silence, because he knows it’s what Scott needs.

Finally, Scott shifts, finally looking at him again. Reyes’ hand falls from his shoulder as their eyes meet. “Sorry,” Scott says. “I didn’t mean to throw all this on you.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Reyes tells him.

“You’re here to yell at me,” Scott says.

Reyes watches him carefully. “I’m upset with you. You lied to me – and left me behind, and-” He stops and takes in a slow breath, aware that Scott’s shoulders have stiffened once more, and his gaze has skittered away.

He’s not sure what made him so skittish around Reyes, but he knows shouting at him, and demanding answers isn’t the way to go about things right now. It won’t get them anywhere, and will only make Scott close in on himself further. Something has clearly upset him, _terrified_ him, and he needs a gentle hand, not harsh words.

“We’ll discuss it later,” Reyes tells him. “Right now, let me take care of you.”

Scott’s eyes find his again. There’s something hiding in his gaze – something dark and haunted, and Reyes aches to learn what happened, learn the story, but he’s not going to press for details. Not right now. When Scott’s ready to tell him, Reyes will be there to listen. Until then, he’s just going to be there for Scott, and show him that no matter how angry he might get with the Pathfinder, he’s not going anywhere.

Scott once said Reyes was stuck with him.

_That’s okay, because you’re stuck with me, too._

He pushes up from the bed, and stands just in front of the Pathfinder. Scott looks up at him, looking only a fraction of his usual self. Reyes is going to wipe that look from his eyes, distract him from whatever thoughts are haunting him, even if it takes all night. Even if it takes days.

His hands push against Scott’s shoulders. “Lay down.”

Scott hesitates briefly, before he complies and lays on his back. Reyes follows him down, straddling his waist as he sits atop a body he knows all too well, and slips his hands up under the dark blue shirt. Scott shivers at the touch of Reyes’ hands against his skin, as they trail up, pushing his shirt up until it bunches under his neck. Reyes’ fingers trail lightly over the outline of the bullet wound on Scott’s chest; doubts momentarily plague his mind, but he shoves those thoughts away quickly. Scott’s here, he’s alive, and he’s healing. Reyes will make sure of that. He might always bare a scar, but he will recover from this wound. Reyes won’t allow anything less.

“Reyes-” Scott tries.

“Hush,” Reyes hums, slipping his hands lower on Scott’s abdomen, “let me take care of you, Sweetheart.”

“But-”

Reyes leans low, and captures Scott’s mouth with his own, silencing him. “No,” he says, nipping lightly at the Pathfinder’s lower lip. “Let me take care of you. We’ll talk later.”

“… _Why_ …?” Scott whispered.

“Why what, Sweetheart?”

Scott swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Why are you being so… _nice_ to me?”

Reyes’ fingers fumble with the buckle to Scott’s pants. “Do I need a reason to be nice to my boyfriend?”

“B-Boyfriend?” Now Scott’s cheeks are flushed, which is a nice change from the pallor of before. Reyes’ lips seal along the soft, vulnerable flesh of Scott’s exposed neck, and he sucks until Scott sighs, arching into him somewhat. Satisfied at the mark left behind, Reyes pulls back and smiles at his space hero.

“Do you disagree?” There’s more confidence in his voice than he really feels; did he go too far? Are they not boyfriends? Is he too hopeful? But he has to sound confident, because Reyes Vidal is nothing if not confident.

Scott cracks a faint smile, and Reyes thinks, _success_. “Boyfriends,” Scott says quietly. “It has a nice ring to it.”

“Does that mean you agree?” He pulls Scott’s pants down his legs, shifting only enough to get the fabric from beneath him before he sits straddling Scott’s waist again.

Scott exhales quickly. “Yes,” he says breathily. “Reyes…”

“Shh, Sweetheart. I know what you need.”

“I’m _sorry_ …” Scott whispers, and Reyes looks up to find the Pathfinder’s eyes screwed shut. “I shouldn’t have… I didn’t… I’m sorry I lied to you.”

Reyes swallows thickly, feeling the anger and hurt from before surging through him. The fear he felt when he looked at where the _Tempest_ should have been, but wasn’t anymore. He opens his mouth, then closes it, searching for words. He sits back, removing his hands from Scott’s skin, and the Pathfinder shivers in the absence.

“Why did you?” he asks quietly. “Why did you leave me behind?”

“I couldn’t bring you with me.”

“Why not? You said you would wait.”

“It was the… only way to keep you safe. To keep you here.”

“I don’t need protecting, Scott,” Reyes says, eyes narrowing as the anger threatens to overpower the hurt. Does Scott think him weak? Has he forgotten he’s the Charlatan, and can look after himself? He’s been doing it his whole life; he doesn’t need someone protecting him.

“I couldn’t… let you throw everything away for me.”

“Throw what away? Look at me.”

Scott still has his eyes closed. Now he sighs and opens them, reluctantly meeting Reyes’ gaze. Whatever he sees there makes him swallow thickly. “You worked so hard to have Kadara Port, and you were needed here. I couldn’t just… let you throw all that away because of me.”

“That wasn’t your choice to make,” Reyes snaps, the anger getting the best of him. “I don’t need your protection.”

“I know,” Scott says, sounding small. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t just go around making decisions for me. I told you I wanted to go with you. I made that choice, not you.”

“I know… I just…”

“You just _what_?”

Scott screws his eyes tightly closed again. “I didn’t want you to watch me die.”

The fight leaves Reyes as quickly as it came. The breath also leaves him in a rush – a shaky, ragged exhale torn from reluctant lungs. He’s reminded, again, of why he wanted to go with Scott in the first place – because he was already weakened from being _shot_ , and his odd of surviving the encounter were slim to none, and –

_He thought he was going to die._

The thought swirls around in Reyes’ mind.

_He really thought he was going to die. That’s why he left me behind – so I wouldn’t watch him die._

He wanted to go with Scott to keep him from dying, but never gave much thought about what might happen if he _failed_ , and did have to watch him die. He’d already watched Scott die once; he was saved, and brought back, but he did die in Reyes’ arms once already. That was more than enough. If he had to watch it happen _again_ , and be completely helpless to stop it…

“Reyes?” Scott’s voice is quiet, timid. “Please say something.”

Reyes doesn’t realize his own eyes are closed until that moment, but he can’t bring himself to open them. Can’t bring himself to open them and see the worry in Scott’s eyes, see the fear etched across his face. Fear of rejection. He thinks Reyes hates him, after all; and Reyes never could.

Scott did what he thought was right, because he’s a space hero, and that’s what he does.

He does what’s right for others, but not for himself, because he’s a fucking selfless space hero, and if he would just be selfish for _once_ -

He didn’t keep Reyes from going because he didn’t want Reyes there. He kept Reyes from going with him because he thought he was going to die, and he didn’t want Reyes to have to see that image again. Even running off to his death, his thoughts were on Reyes, not himself.

Reyes should be angry. He should be so incredibly angry.

But all he feels is… _pain_. He’s hurt, because Scott is too selfless. He’s hurt, because that thought never should have entered Scott’s mind. He’s hurt, because Scott is fucking _right_. Watching Scott die again would have destroyed him.

But Scott’s not dead – Reyes didn’t watch him die again. He’s alive, and he’s here with Reyes, able to have this conversation. Something upsetting clearly happened, something he’s not willing to share just yet, but there’s _time_. They have time now. Scott’s here, he’s alive – that’s all that matters.

He opens his eyes and leans forward, pressing his lips to Scott’s once again. The kiss is deep and desperate – Reyes tries to express all the words he can’t say. How relieved he is Scott’s back; how relieved he is Scott’s alive; how thankful he is that Scott was thinking about him, even if he’s angry about that, too, because Scott needs to think about himself more. Scott’s hands tangle in Reyes’ hair, yanking him closer, and Reyes slips a hand between them, rubbing atop Scott’s boxers.

Scott arches into him, whimpering into Reyes’ mouth.

The kiss breaks, and Reyes smirks at him. “We’re going to have a long conversation in the morning – but right now, you’re going to let me take care of you, and you’re not going to say a word unless it’s to tell me how much you adore me – are we clear?”

Scott’s face is red again, but his pupils are dilated. “ _Reyes_ …”

A shiver of want slips down Reyes’ spine at the way Scott says his name.

He grins, and captures Scott’s lips once again.

xXx

Scott’s sore and tired, but it’s a good tired.

Reyes is warm and solid against him, sound asleep in Scott’s bed, and that’s really all that matters. He didn’t completely ruin everything by lying to Reyes and leaving him behind. Reyes said they would discuss it later, but right now, he seems to have forgiven Scott. Scott has… never been loved so tenderly before. It’s almost too much. A part of him wonders if Reyes was so gentle because he thinks Scott is fragile and weak; another part of him wants to believe Reyes just wants to… _love_ him.

 _That’s ridiculous_ , he thinks. _You’re being ridiculous._

He sighs and stares up at the ceiling for a long moment, registering his body’s fatigue.

 ** _That was perhaps unwise,_** SAM says. **_Dr. T’Perro said no strenuous activity._**

 _Reyes did all the work,_ Scott tells him. _And we didn’t even have sex._

They didn’t have sex, though Scott wanted to. Either Reyes knows, on some level, that he can’t do that right now, or he just wanted to make Scott feel good in another way – he’s not sure, but he’s not complaining. They didn’t have sex, but not everything is about sex.

**_Nevertheless, your heartrate-_ **

_SAM. I know._

**_Mr. Vidal would not condone such activities if he knew the severity of the situation._ **

_Yeah… but he doesn’t know, and you’re not going to tell him._

Reyes doesn’t know that Scott died on the Archon’s ship. He doesn’t know that the shrapnel shifted, even if ever so slightly, and he needs to have his surgery as soon as possible, before his condition worsens. He doesn’t know that strenuous activity can be extremely detrimental to his health. He doesn’t know because Scott hasn’t told him. Yet.

 ** _You should not keep this from him,_** SAM advises.

 _I don’t plan to,_ Scott says. _I’ll tell him today. We just… both needed last night, I think. And I’m okay, so no harm, no foul, right?_

**_I do not appreciate your lack of self-preservation, and I am certain Mr. Vidal shares my thoughts._ **

_Careful, SAM. Keep that up and people are going to start thinking you care about me._

And that notion is entirely ridiculous. For SAM to care about him, specifically, beyond that of protecting the Pathfinder – it would mean he can be emotionally compromised. It would make him too human, and Alec Ryder would never have allowed that to happen. So, SAM can’t care about him, not like that – not beyond simple duty to protect the Pathfinder. He’d have the same protective instincts toward Sara, if she were Pathfinder, or Cora. Scott himself isn’t special. SAM doesn’t care about him, specifically. Only his legacy as Pathfinder.

Alec Ryder might have been emotionally compromised, at the end – but it’s a flaw SAM will never have.

He’s unaware Reyes is awake until the smuggler shifts, kissing a line along his jaw, up toward his mouth. Warmth floods through Scott; he can definitely get used to this.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Mm,” Reyes hums, lips trailing against his skin, smooth and pliant and warm. “It is, isn’t it, my space hero?”

_I’m not a hero, Reyes._

But Reyes thinks he is. He’s adamant that Scott is a hero, that he made the right choice, that he didn’t just leave Raeka to die. That he’d feel even worse if he chose to save Raeka and left the krogan in that Archon’s hands. Maybe that’s true; maybe he made the only choice he could in that situation, or maybe, after dying and coming back to life and having Drack with him, he himself was emotionally compromised… and that influenced his decision to save the krogan. He’ll never know for sure, because hindsight might be 20/20, but he still needs glasses to see all the angles clearly.

“I missed you,” Scott finds himself saying, as Reyes’ stubble rubs along his cheek. He’s missed this closeness. He’s missed the feel of the other man next to him, against him, above and below him. He’s missed him.

Reyes falters, if only briefly. It’s enough to leave Scott swallowing, though. “I missed you, as well,” the smuggler tells him, somewhat roughly. He clears his throat. “If you ever run off on me like that again… I will not be held responsible for my actions. Do you hear me?”

“Sure, Reyes.”

“You mock me. I am serious.” Reyes pushes himself up so he’s leaning next to Scott, resting fully on one arm, soft brown eyes narrowed as they search Scott’s face. “Don’t leave me behind again.”

“Reyes…”

“No. Don’t give me excuses. Even if…” The smuggler hesitates, jaw clenching, once, twice, before he continues. “Even if you think you’re running off to your death. I want to be there.”

“But-”

“I said no excuses.”

Scott exhales slowly, watching the smuggler. “Reyes,” he says quietly, as though talking to a small child, “I need you to really think about this. You can’t come with me all the time. You’re the Charlatan; you have priorities here. I won’t let you throw that all away just because of me.”

Reyes’ eyes narrow into thin slits, the morning sunlight reflecting off them dangerously. “That’s not your decision to make, it’s _mine_. And if I want to throw it away for you, then I will.”

“Reyes. Please – you can’t. You worked so hard for everything, you can’t just-”

“Stop telling me what I can’t do!” Reyes snaps, shoving away from Scott, sitting up completely on the bed now instead of just leaning there, next to him. He spins away from Scott, body coiled with rage. “This is all your fucking fault, you know that, Scott Ryder?”

Scott flinches. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s all your fault, because before I met you, all I wanted was to have Kadara Port as my own. To step out of the shadows as the Charlatan, reveal to everyone who I was – and _be someone_.” Reyes turns back toward him, jabbing a finger harshly into Scott’s chest, just above his healing wound. “And then I met _you_ – and you ruined me.”

Scott winces from the jab, both physically and emotionally.

“You think I care about any of that – about Kadara Port, or the Collective – when you’re running off into danger at every turn?”

Scott sighs. “You say that – but if you were to come with me and lose everything, you’d hate me for it. You worked too hard for this.”

“I know how hard I worked! I know more than you do, because I lived it!”

Arguing with Reyes in the face of his anger is not something Scott wanted when this morning started, but he can’t just back out now. He sits up so he’s even with Reyes, his own eyes narrowed into a glare. “You worked your whole life to achieve this moment, and you’ve already given the outward title to Keema because of me. Because you don’t want people attacking me. You’re still hiding in the shadows because of me. I won’t let you lose everything because of me, too.” He holds a hand up as Reyes opens his mouth, no doubt to argue further. “No, stop. I’m not done. Let me finish, and then you can yell at me to your heart’s content, but I’m too tired to keep doing this all morning.”

There’s a flicker of doubt, of concern, in Reyes’ sunset eyes but Scott keeps going, because if he lets the concern win over the anger, they’ll never get anywhere.

“I’m sorry I left you behind. I’m sorry, but I thought it was the right choice at the time. You’re right, I shouldn’t have chosen for you – but you can’t just throw your whole life here away for me. You worked too hard for this. I’ll bring you with me as many times as you want – as long as it doesn’t interfere with anything you have happening here. I _want_ you with me, Reyes – even at the end.” He swallows thickly, looking away. “But you can’t just give everything up for me, either. I don’t want that. I want you to have a life to come back to in case…”

He trails off, having said more than he meant to, but Reyes seems to understand what he can’t say.

“In case you _die_ ,” the smuggler spits out distastefully. “You think, after you run off and _die_ , I’m just going to come back to Kadara like nothing happened?”

Scott needs to believe Reyes will have a life after his death – because he can’t see any way around his untimely death in the near future. It might be a week from now, a month, or years down the road, but it will be violent and before his time. It will not be a natural death, because SAM is too far into his system, and at some point everyone is going to realize how wrong he is for this job and decide it’s better to put SAM in a new Pathfinder – even if it means killing him. The good of the many will always outweigh the good of the few.

Perhaps, right now, everyone is emotionally compromised. Taking a life knowingly is never something anyone wants to do – even if that life belongs to someone completely wrong for the job. Someone completely untrained.

 ** _You are doing well,_** SAM says. **_Please cease this line of thought. It serves no purpose. You are doing so well as Pathfinder, Scott._**

SAM always seems to have his back in these darker moments. He’s not entirely sure what to think about that. He chooses to feel relieved.

“Well?” Reyes asks, and Scott realizes he’s been quiet for too long. “If you think I’m just going to go back to a normal life when you’re gone, then you haven’t been paying attention, Scott Ryder.”

Scott sighs, and drags his gaze back toward Reyes. The smuggler’s eyes are – shining? Scott freezes, staring into the shimmering pools. Reyes’ eyes really do catch fire in the sunlight, when they’re wet. It’s almost mesmerizing.

“I _love_ you,” Reyes tells him, expression – cracking. He takes a deep breath, and composes himself further. His eyes harden in steely determination. “I’m with you until the end – and you can’t get rid of me.”

“So I’m stuck with you?” Scott asks, aiming for cockiness but in the end it just comes out this raw, broken thing.

Reyes smiles, and it’s just as equally broken. “You’re stuck with me.”

The laugh Scott releases is ragged and shaky, but it’s the first time he’s laughed in a while. It feels good. “I can think of worse fates.”

A line creases briefly in Reyes’ brow, before it smooths. “As can I, Sweetheart. I hope this means you’ve come to your senses and won’t be leaving me behind again.”

Scott releases a heavy breath. “As long as you understand I don’t want to interfere with your Charlatan business – then yeah, I’ll bring you with me.”

“Can I get that in writing? SAM?”

 ** _“I can give you a recording of the statement,”_** SAM says from his terminal across the room.

Scott’s face reddens. “SAM!”

Reyes smirks. “I think your AI likes me.”

“Yeah, well – I’m pretty fond of you, too.”

xXx

Lexi isn’t happy about his ‘activities’. She goes on a rant about SAM stopping his heart, and Scott’s just lucky Reyes is down in the kitchen making them food, and _not_ with him in the med-bay right now. He hasn’t told Reyes about that little detail yet; he’s still debating on if he’s _going_ to tell him. It will only worry him, and Scott’s _fine_. SAM stopped his heart, but he got it working again, too. There’s no reason to keep worrying about it.

 _Except you’re worried yourself, about how far SAM is into your systems,_ a part of him whispers.

 _Yeah,_ he agrees, _but I’ve known that from the start. It’s why I’m the Pathfinder, and they can’t just take SAM away._

He’s torn between being okay with this – with SAM so far into his systems – and being completely and utterly _terrified_.

 ** _“I do not wish to harm the Pathfinder,”_** SAM tells Lexi, amidst her rant.

“You’re nothing but lines of code,” Lexi snaps, “you don’t care about the life you’re stopping!”

Scott can’t help but flinch – because that’s what he’s been thinking, too, isn’t it? SAM is nothing but a program, designed to help a Pathfinder, but nothing more. If it comes down to it… what’s to stop SAM from killing him to jump into a new host, when he deems Scott unworthy? So far, he’s been helping Scott – but now that he has the power to kill him, and change hosts on his own…

 ** _I would never do that,_** SAM says, somewhat firmly, for as robotic as his voice is.

 ** _“You forget that it is a symbiotic relationship I share with Scott,”_** SAM tells Lexi. **_“Without him, I cannot see the world or experience is a person living in it; I lose half of my data pool. It is my job to protect the Pathfinder. I would never harm him if there were another option. I fully told Scott the risks before he agreed to do it; I would never just ‘kill him’, as you say, without his permission.”_**

Lexi fumes silently for a long moment. Scott tries to tiptoe out of the room while she’s distracted, but sadly he trips over his own feet, making the smallest of sounds as he scrambles to catch himself, and she looks over at him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she snaps, anger focused on him now. “Don’t think you’re getting out of here so easily. You’ll be lucky if I let you out of my sight for the next month.”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Scott can’t help but quip.

“I told you not to come back further harmed, did I not?” she asks, glaring at him. “And what happens? You let SAM kill you!”

“He brought me back,” Scott says, because that’s his only defense.

“And if he was unable to do so? If it put too much strain on your heart? What then?”

“Then Cora would be Pathfinder.” Scott’s unaware he’s said this aloud, and not just in his thoughts, until Lexi huffs, and if looks could kill, he’d certainly be dead due to her glare.

“This is not a joke, Scott!”

_I wasn’t joking…_

Everyone always makes such a big deal about his ‘death’ but the truth of the matter is – if he dies, SAM will go to Cora. Cora is more trained. It will be better for everyone all around if they had Cora as Pathfinder, and not him, but everyone is too reluctant to say it. So they spew words of anger, and claim he is _joking_ , when he’s pretty sure he can’t take this more seriously.

“You’re the Pathfinder,” Lexi continues, either oblivious to Scott’s discontent or ignoring it altogether, he’s not certain. “You need to start acting like it.”

 _I am…_ He is. He is acting like the Pathfinder. Isn’t he? That’s all he’s been trying to do this whole fucking time… is try to be a good Pathfinder. Try to be what everyone needs him to be. And to hear he’s failing, even when he already knew that to be true…

His jaw clenches. “If you’re so unhappy with how I’m handling things as Pathfinder,” he says darkly, a chill inching down his spine at his own voice in his ears, “then maybe you should stop trying to save me and let Cora take over. Ever think of that?”

With that, he spins on his heel to leave the room.

Except the door flashes red, and he’s sealed inside with Lexi. _SAM, you better fucking let me out right now. Do you hear me?_

 ** _You are upset,_** SAM says.

_No fucking shit, SAM. Let me out. Now._

“Scott,” Lexi says quietly, and he can hear her coming up behind him.

He presses his palm flat against the door. _SAM, let me out. I don’t want to talk to her right now. Let me out!_

 ** _Fleeing from this conversation in anger is not ideal,_** SAM informs him.

He growls, anger flooding through him anew. Anger at Lexi, SAM, this whole situation. “SAM, you let me out right fucking now,” he snaps, slamming his palm against the door.

“Scott,” Lexi says again, and there’s blue fingers wrapping around his wrist.

He fights back the urge to whirl on the intruder and attack them; it’s just Lexi, and no matter how angry he might be, how upset he might be, he won’t hurt her. So he just stiffens, and jerks his wrist free of her grasp, but he doesn’t try to hit the door again. Instead, he stares blankly at it, finding it easier to focus on that than the feel of Lexi’s eyes on him.

“I’m sorry,” Lexi tells him gently, as though he is a small child prepared to flee. Which, he supposes he is. He is behaving immaturely – so very unlike a Pathfinder. Because he’s _not_ a Pathfinder. He was never _meant_ to be Pathfinder. “You have to know I didn’t mean it like that. I think you are doing a great job as Pathfinder, especially considering you weren’t trained for this position. You are doing remarkably well.”

In that moment, she sounds remarkably like SAM. He can’t help but wonder if SAM is feeding the words to her via their own small connection; after all, he is connected to everyone in some small way, considering the fact he was made to help monitor everyone.

“I didn’t mean to sound as though you are doing a terrible job, because you’re not,” the asari continues. “I just meant that, as Pathfinder, you need to start acting like you _matter_.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw. He grits his teeth.

“You keep saying that if something happens to you, Cora will just become Pathfinder, and there’s nothing to be lost – but you must understand your father chose you for a _reason_. He chose you over Cora for a _reason_. Even Cora admits that you have done far more than she could have, because you two think differently, at your cores.”

Scott’s lungs don’t want to work properly. There are steel bands coiling tightly around them. He can still breathe, but it’s shaky and ragged. He tries to keep them quiet, and keeps his mouth shut, because he knows if he speaks his voice would give him away.

“Don’t let your father’s sacrifice be in vain,” Lexi says.

The words hit him like a physical blow. His father died for him, so that he could live. Alec Ryder barely acknowledged Scott his whole life, but then chose for Scott to live instead of himself – and downloaded his legacy into his mind like that was always the plan, and it _wasn’t_. He entrusted Scott with his legacy – and yeah, Scott gave up years ago on trying to make his father proud… but right now… He can’t let him down.

He can’t let his sacrifice be in vain.

He has to do better.

He has to survive.

At least long enough to defeat the Archon. That will be his legacy.

 ** _“I think Scott understands now,”_** SAM says.

The door flashes green, and opens in front of him. He hesitates, turning to look at Lexi. He opens his mouth to say something, then snaps it shut with a shake of his head, and bolts from the room.  


	19. I Said It Was Love and I Did It for Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott hasn't quite told Reyes everything that happened on the Archon's ship. A cup of tea changes things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "Trouble" by Cage the Elephant. I might come back and change the title, I dunno. We'll see.
> 
> Hey, guys, sorry for the delay. Didn't mean to take so long, this chapter is just long xD Hopefully that makes up for it? Also, I've been unbelievably stressed and depressed the past few weeks... it's been pretty bad. Had some dark thoughts. But I'm a little better at the moment (we'll see how long that lasts). Anyway, so, yeah, sorry for the delay. 
> 
> I'm on a 6 day stretch of work, which sucks :P Stupid inventory time. 
> 
> I'll try to update when I can :) 
> 
> As always, comments are love!

_ Chapter Nineteen: I Said It Was Love and I Did It for Life _

 

He really shouldn’t enjoy waking up next to someone like this, Reyes ponders as he lays awake in Scott’s bed in the early morning sunlight. Kadaran sunrises are beautiful, surpassed only by its sunsets. It’s always intrigued him, how darkness yields to light every single day – and yet, light gives way to darkness all the same. It’s a balance, and Reyes enjoys a good balance.

The _Tempest_ has been back on Kadara for two days, and he really shouldn’t enjoy waking next to Scott as much as he does. Maybe that should whisper how far he’s fallen, but instead of being upset about this, or dismayed, he chooses instead to embrace it.

He likes waking next to Scott. He likes sleeping with a warm, solid body next to him, safe in the knowledge that his person will not harm him. He is _safe_. He’s never felt truly safe before, but Scott – he’s _safe_. He’s warm and solid and real, and Reyes likes waking with the knowledge he’s still there, pressed against him, a constant reminder. In all of his flings in the past, all his attempts at something more, they never just slept together. They had sex, and that was it; that was where their similarities, and their regard for each other, ended. But it’s different with Scott. It’s always different with Scott.

Scott’s different.

A good different.

Reyes could get used to this – having Scott so close, waking next to him, always sharing a bed. He missed this, while Scott was gone, going after the Archon. He missed this and a lot of things. He’d grown used to Scott’s presence while he stayed with him on the _Tempest_ , and missed it when it was gone. Of course, there had also been the added worry that _Scott wasn’t coming back_.

_He’s back now._

He certainly is. He’s back, and he’s alive.

_I didn’t lose him._

His arms tighten unconsciously around the body against him. Scott releases a breathy sigh in his sleep, burrowing closer to Reyes, nuzzling his face into the crook of the smuggler’s neck. _This_ , Reyes decides, _this is what I want._

He wants this, and he wants Kadara Port.

Scott is the only person who will never make him choose between the two – but he’s also the only person who would ever think they could lose in that scenario. He’ll never make the ultimatum because he thinks he’s unworthy of winning. Reyes intends to put an end to that nonsense as soon as he possibly can, of course; Scott deserves better than to live in doubt all the time.

Reyes knows that life, he lived it for the entirety of his life, and that is not the kind of life he would wish upon anyone, least of all Scott Ryder.

His mind wanders, in the early morning light. He thinks back to his confrontation with Scott, and how Scott thought for certain he would die meeting the Archon, and he did not wish to have Reyes view the event.

The anger from that moment stirs faintly in his stomach, fury for the thought of death ever being so prominent in Scott’s mind. Protectiveness has never been a quality of his, but in that moment, with the Pathfinder’s body pressed firmly against his, he feels it keenly. Raw, unbridled fear for Scott’s safety, worry for his well-being, and fury for the threats stacking against him. Fury against the thought that one day, he might not return.

 _You’re being ridiculous,_ Reyes tells himself. He is not protective, and Scott Ryder is certainly no damsel. He can take care of himself – that’s part of what Reyes loves about him.

He’s strong in his own right, even if his body has become worn down by the exhaustive healing process. His mind is sharp; he’s always thinking. He’s cunning in a way Reyes never was – Reyes always sought after his own future, and worked toward making that happen, but Scott works differently. He pushes his own worries to the side, his own thoughts of the future and what he personally wants, and does what he thinks is right for the future of others. He’s a better man than Reyes has ever known, or will ever hope to be. Scott Ryder is strong, even if it’s not physically. He’s quick and light on his feet in combat, sure-footed with his biotics where others are uncertain, and while he doesn’t seem to enjoy killing, he doesn’t hold back, either. That shows a certain inner strength Reyes isn’t certain Scott knows is there.

_But we’ll work on that._

The man in his arms shifts, tearing Reyes from his thoughts. The majority of his thoughts these days seem to consist of the human Pathfinder. Perhaps Reyes should be worried about what this says about him, but honestly, he enjoys the other man’s presence too much to question the change in his thoughts.

Scott’s nose nuzzles more into the crook of Reyes’ neck, before the Pathfinder inhales deeply, and says, with a breathy yawn, “Morning, Sunshine.”

Reyes quirks a brow, as he does not know why Scott would be saying morning sunshine. Maybe he doesn’t like the light; maybe his eyes are tender, or his head aches. Perhaps Reyes should close the curtains.

He breathes in the scent of his lover. “Morning,” he says, his arms still wound around the warm body, despite the fact he can barely feel his limbs anymore. He’s not certain how long Scott has been laying on his arm, but even so, he’s not prepared to move.

He never thought he’d be the kind of man to enjoy lazy moments like this, in the early morning sunlight. He never thought that was ever in the cards for him. But now that it is, he can’t say he’s disappointed. Pleasantly surprised, but never disappointed, not with Scott. It worries him, how much he likes this – how much he likes the man next to him. It’s disconcerting on a level little else is, because emotional ties bring with it baggage of their own, and other worries. Such as the fact people will attempt to target Scott to get to him, especially if they ever learn he’s the Charlatan. They’ll behave exactly as Sloane did – and this time they might succeed.

He never had to worry about emotional ties like this before. Flings came and went; friends were something he never really had. There was never anyone close enough to him for others to use as leverage against him. Now, there is. Now there’s something to protect, and he’s never been protective, but that feeling is fierce within him.

“Hey,” Scott says sleepily, around a small yawn, “I kind of need to breathe.”

Reyes relaxes his hold on the Pathfinder, unaware he’d unconsciously tightened his hold yet again. Scott shifts, burrowing further into him, with a contented sigh ghosting across the exposed flesh of Reyes’ neck.

“Something wrong?” the Pathfinder asks.

“No,” Reyes answers.

Everything is fine as long as they stay here, like this, wrapped together in bed. If this moment could just linger…

But they both have responsibilities, and Scott’s comes calling for him sooner than Reyes’.

There’s a knock at Scott’s door. Scott stiffens against Reyes, muttering about ‘five more minutes’. Reyes chuckles and loosens his hold on the Pathfinder. “As much as I would enjoy remaining here in bed with you, you _are_ the Pathfinder.”

“Don’t remind me,” Scott sighs, finally shifting away from Reyes.

He misses the warmth immediately, but manages a smile when Scott’s eyes meet his. Scott climbs out of bed, movements slow and stiff; a flicker of concern pulses through Reyes’ mind, churning heavily in his stomach. He watches as Scott makes his way across the room, hitting a panel on the wall to have the doors open.

It’s the red-haired science officer, Suvi Anwar. Reyes has done his research on Scott’s crew, after all. She’s holding a steaming mug of something, which she holds out for Scott. The Pathfinder hesitates, before he accepts it. She says something, but Reyes can’t hear from the bed as they are speaking too quietly, but her expression is serious, and the line of Scott’s shoulders tenses. Reyes quietly climbs out of bed and pads across the room.

“… can’t even imagine what that was like for you,” Suvi is saying as Reyes approaches. “Especially so soon after… you were shot, and to have SAM do that… Well, if you need to talk, I am here for you.”

Reyes’ brows furrow. What is she talking about?

“Did I miss something?” he asks, causing Scott to stiffen further, even as the Pathfinder whirls around to face him, blue eyes wide.

“Reyes,” Scott breathes, like he forgot he was there. “Uh – it’s nothing.”

“Well…” Suvi says, clearly uncomfortable. “Let me know if that tea helps. I have more if you need it. I’ll leave you two be.”

She quickly takes her leave, and the doors shut to Scott’s room. Reyes narrows his eyes at the Pathfinder. “Well? What aren’t you telling me?”

It hurts, that Scott is potentially keeping something from him. He can’t understand why Scott would do that; aren’t they past that? Did they agree no more secrets? Or, at least, Reyes offered that, but Scott said he knew Reyes would always have his secrets and that was okay, and he just wanted the smuggler to tell him the big stuff. For someone who dislikes lying, and secrets, as much as he seems to… Scott seems to be keeping a lot of his own.

“It’s nothing,” Scott says again.

“Uh huh,” Reyes says slowly, quirking a brow at him. “Why don’t I believe you?”

Scott sighs, looking away, shoulders drooping. “Because I’m lying.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s in the past,” the Pathfinder says, as if that will stop the line of questioning. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Obviously it does,” Reyes says. Is this the reason Scott’s been so… off, since his return from the Archon’s ship? They discussed matters, briefly, when they reconnected, but he knew there was still something bothering Scott. He tried to give him space, and let Scott tell him on his own… but by now his curiosity is getting the best of him, and he’s hurt Scott still hasn’t told him. Especially when it’s clearing bothering him. “Tell me.”

Scott releases a heavy exhale, keeping his gaze solidly focused on the ground. “Things got… a little dicey on the Archon’s ship,” he says slowly, hesitantly.

Reyes suspected as much. “How dicey?”

“… Very.”

“Tell me,” he says again.

“We were captured by the Archon,” Scott tells him quietly, as if speaking too loudly might shatter him. That knot in Reyes’ stomach twists and flips, both at the tone and at the words.

“Captured,” he repeats. “By the Archon. Who wants you dead.”

Scott nods, still not looking at him, fingers clasped around the steaming mug in his hands.

Reyes exhales slowly, attempting to real in his suddenly chaotic emotions. “I see,” he says, somewhat stiffly. “What happened?”

“We were trapped in an immobilization field,” the Pathfinder continues. “It was triggered to hold living matter. So, since SAM is connected to my physiology… he, uh… _we_ thought… it would be best if…”

Reyes’ heart stutters, and his mind stills. For a long moment, he simply stands there, staring at the Pathfinder as understanding dawns on him. His hands curl into fists at his sides, and His lungs constrict but he forces the words past reluctant lips. “Are you telling me you let that AI _kill you_?”

There’s a dark undertone to his voice he can’t control, and he watches as Scott flinches, taking a step away from him. He reaches out to stop him, fingers curling tightly in the fabric of Scott’s shirt, yanking him forward while simultaneously throwing him back, shaking him. Scott’s fingers release his hold on the mug and it drops to the ground, shattering upon impact, the dark liquid hot against Reyes’ feet. Finally, Scott’s eyes connect with his own, and he glares into them furiously.

“How long?” he demands, shaking the Pathfinder again.

“Reyes-”

“ _How long!_ ”

“Two minutes,” Scott tells him, holding his gaze.

Reyes’ grip tightens; his fingers ache from the pressure but he ignores it, digging nails into his skin through the fabric curled in his hands. The knot in his stomach is so tight it’s nearly unbearable; bile rises in his throat but he swallows it back down, letting it burn all the way.

Two minutes. 120 seconds. Scott was _dead_ for two minutes, while Reyes remained safe on Kadara. Scott went off and _died_ on him. It’s everything Reyes worried would happen, except this is worse because Scott _allowed it to happen_. He was trapped, and he let SAM-

“SAM,” he says tersely.

 ** _“Yes, Mr. Vidal?”_** SAM asks from his terminal.

“You stopped his heart.”

 _You killed him,_ he thinks but doesn’t say, but the words linger in the room anyway.

“Reyes-” Scott tries.

“You _let him_ stop your heart,” he intones, glaring at the Pathfinder still held in his grasp. To his credit, Scott hasn’t tried to get away, even when Reyes was shaking him. Now it’s Reyes that’s shaking, for entirely different reasons. “You let those lines of code _kill you_! Did you even hesitate? Did you even _think-_?”

_Did you even think what it would do to me, if you died? Did you even think what would happen if you died, as the human Pathfinder? Did you even think, at all?_

No, he decides. Scott didn’t think. Because he’s too selfless for his own good, and he has such a low opinion of himself that it probably didn’t even matter if he lived or died. He knew Scott was more than a little depressed after he was shot, and hated how long his recovery was taking. He knew the Pathfinder felt useless, and pathetic, and try as he might to cure of him of those thoughts… those things took time. And yet, he let Scott run off on his own anyway, and this happened. Scott let himself be killed.

He was dead for two minutes. Literally dead. The field only reacted with living matter, which meant he _had_ to be dead, to be dropped from it. Not just breathless, like in the cave. Actually _dead_.

“Did you even think?” Reyes asks, and he hates the raw cadence of his voice – like daggers in his throat, cutting and stabbing until he’s choking on fractured words. He swallows thickly, but it does little to dislodge the lump in his throat.

“I did what I had to do,” Scott says flatly, frowning at him. “It was the only way to get out of the field. SAM brought me back.”

“So that makes it _okay_?” Reyes snaps, shaking the Pathfinder again. Anger burns within him, heating his face and leaving his stomach twisting violently. The bile threatens to return. At this point he’s not certain who he’s more angry with: Scott for agreeing to _die_ , SAM for doing it, or himself for not even knowing. He loves Scott – he should have _known_ something was wrong. He should have known. Right? But how could he, because Scott left him behind…

“Reyes,” Scott says quietly, voice a little too calm. It grates on Reyes’ already frayed nerves. “I’m okay. I came back. I’m here.”

Reyes doesn’t realize how badly he needs to hear those words until the lump in his throat grows, momentarily cutting off his air, and when he does breathe it’s these sharp, shaky exhales and trembling inhales. He swallows harshly, Adam’s apple bobbing painfully. _I could have lost you. I did lose you. For two minutes, you were dead._ The thoughts keep circling around in his mind. Scott died. He actually _died_. And Reyes wasn’t there to help him; he wasn’t there to do anything. He couldn’t stop it. He’s the Charlatan, a man of _power_ , but he’s useless if he can’t even protect-

“It’s okay,” Scott tells him, calmly.

“None of this is okay,” Reyes croaks, shaking his head. His grip loosens, but he dares not release him. “You _died_. Again.”

“Third time’s the charm.”

“Do not joke about this!” he snaps, glaring at the Pathfinder.

“I’m sorry,” Scott says, and he does seem sincere, with his brows furrowed and his eyes darkening. “I didn’t want to do it, but it was our only option at the time. A rescue party wouldn’t have made it to us. The only reason we were left alone at all is because Raeka caused an explosion, distracting the Archon. Time was of the essence, and it was our only option. I’m sorry.”

Reyes inhales slowly, and allows his eyes to fall closed. He wasn’t there; he didn’t know the situation. Surely Scott wouldn’t have allowed it to happen if he didn’t have another choice – right? But there’s always this doubt…

“Do you want to die?” The words tumble from numb lips. He’s not sure who’s more surprised, himself or Scott. He stiffens, bile rising once more in his throat, and Scott inhales sharply.

“Reyes… it’s not like that.”

“Do you want to die?” he asks again, because Scott didn’t say ‘no’. He opens his eyes, watching the Pathfinder carefully. Scott’s gaze has skittered away again. The anger returns, as hot and vivid as before. “It’s a simple question! Yes or no! Do you want to die?”

“No,” Scott says.                      

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“I don’t want to die.” Blue eyes meet his again. “I really don’t. Life kinda sucks right now – minus you, of course, you’re great – but it’s still my life, and… well, death is so final. So, no, I don’t want to die.”

“ _But_?” Reyes prompts, eyes narrowing.

“Nothing,” Scott says. “But nothing. I don’t want to die.”

Reyes exhales slowly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Then why would you be so ridiculously, foolishly reckless?”

“It was the only option.”

“Bullshit. What if SAM wasn’t able to revive you? What then?”

“Then we were screwed either way,” Scott says, voice bordering monotone. “At least this way, I had a chance of helping them out. It was our only option.”

He keeps saying that, like it makes it easier for Reyes. It doesn’t.

“SAM,” he says.

**_“Yes, Mr. Vidal?”_ **

“Was it the only option?”

The look of hurt etched on Scott’s face threatens to undo him. He looks away this time.

**_“At the time, it seemed the only viable solution. I would never have done it if there were alternative options.”_ **

Reyes wants to believe that – he really does. But SAM is a series of codes. What does he care if Scott dies? He’ll simply switch hosts, like he did when Alec Ryder died. Does he even care? Does he care about the life of the current Pathfinder? Does it even matter to him?

**_“You are distressed.”_ **

_No fucking shit,_ he thinks, but presses his lips into a thin hard line to keep from speaking.

**_“I would never hurt Scott without his permission, or without reason. It was the only option at the time, and looking back, I still believe it was our best option. Scott was successfully revived and the shrapnel only moved a few centimeters. With his impending surgery, he should-”_ **

“ _Wait_ ,” Reyes snaps, glaring at the Pathfinder. “What about the shrapnel? What happened? What surgery? How soon are you having it? It moved?”

“Which question do you want me to answer first?” Scott asks dryly. “Yes, it moved, but only a little. I’m okay as long as I don’t do anything strenuous. Lexi wants to do the surgery as soon as possible.”

“But you just died,” Reyes says, staring at him.

“I know,” Scott says, expression softening. The hard lines of his face smooth, and there’s a hand cupping the side of Reyes’ face. He tilts his head into the warmth, even if only slightly. “I’m sorry. I never meant to upset you.”

Reyes inhales sharply. “Upset _me_? Forget about me. What about _you?_ How – are you, after all of this?”

The fingers freeze against his face. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t need to lie to me.”

Scott sighs, and his fingers start to caress the line of his stubble again. “I’m not _fine_ , but I’m okay. I’m alive. I’m sure I’ll feel better after the surgery.”

“Scott.”

**_“He is experiencing nightmares.”_ **

“SAM,” Scott hisses, throwing the glowing blue terminal a quick glare. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I would be worried if you weren’t experiencing nightmares,” Reyes tells him. “It’s perfectly normal to have nightmares after such an… ordeal.”

“Yeah… I guess.” He sighs heavily, shaking his head. His fingers drop away from Reyes’ face, and he finds he misses the warmth. “I guess I’m just tired of having nightmares. I’m the Pathfinder – I shouldn’t have these issues.”

“Just because you’re the Pathfinder doesn’t mean you’re not human.”

Scott swallows, blue eyes focused on Reyes’. “Yeah. I guess. Uh – thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

“Just – thank you.”

Reyes smiles softly. “No more death-defying stunts, okay? Three times is more than enough.”

Scott smiles back, the line of his mouth just as soft. “Deal.”

Reyes finally releases him, but Scott doesn’t move away. Instead, he steps closer, and Reyes welcomes him into his arms. Their lips meet in the gentlest of kisses.

xXx

It’s late, but Reyes remains awake, lingering in the kitchen aboard the _Tempest_ , the orange glow of his omni-tool illuminating the otherwise dark room.

“The Outcasts are planning an attack,” Keema tells him.

“They’re still fractured, and they don’t know I’m the Charlatan. You have your own, trusted individuals guarding you day and night. We should be fine.”

“Even so, it would be better if you were here to give plans, instead of on some ship.”

Reyes scowls. “You know I can’t leave.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” Keema challenges.

It’s not that he can’t leave; Scott certainly won’t keep him here. He doesn’t want Reyes to throw all of his hard work away, but that is _his_ choice to make, not Scott’s. If he decides to choose Scott over being the Charlatan, then that is his prerogative.

He doesn’t answer Keema, and she sighs heavily.

“Very well. I guess I should be proud of you, for acknowledging your feelings like this. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I know perfectly well what I’m doing.”

“Are you happy?”

Reyes frowns briefly, pondering the question, because Keema deserves a straight answer for her never-ending patience with him. Is he happy? Right now, he is not. How can he be happy, after he just learned, earlier today, that Scott died on the Archon’s ship? How can he be happy, when he learned it was the AI in his lover’s head that killed him? Sure, said AI also brought him back afterward, but SAM killed him. How can he be happy, after everything that’s happened?

What he mostly feels is relief, at the moment. Relief that Scott is alive, relief that he returned, that he came back, even if he did leave Reyes behind to go on a suicide mission, alone. In general, he is happy with Scott. Happier than he has been in a very, very long time. Perhaps, happier than he’s ever been.

Life hasn’t been particularly kind to Reyes Vidal. But when he’s with Scott, it somehow all seems worth it.

He smiles, slightly. “Yes. I’m happy.”

Keema smiles back. “Then I support you. I’ll take care of the Outcasts. You take care of your boyfriend.”

And Reyes will. Because he finally has something worth keeping – something, someone, to fight for.

Keema ends the call, and the orange glow dissipates. Reyes lowers his arm, rolling his shoulder slightly to alleviate the ache which had been growing, and he pushes to his feet in the now dark room. He returns to Scott’s bedroom, and finds the Pathfinder asleep atop the covers at the foot of the bed, curling into a little ball. He tried to wait up for Reyes, but he is so tired lately. Now Reyes knows it’s because of his heart – because of the shrapnel which moved, and he needs to have his surgery as soon as he can.

There’s a knot in Reyes’ stomach, twisting and turning.

He approaches the AI’s terminal across the room. “SAM?” he asks quietly.

The blue orb brightens. **_“Yes, Mr. Vidal?”_**

“Call me Reyes,” he says.

**_“Yes, Reyes?”_ **

He looks across the room, at the sleeping Pathfinder. “How is he?”

**_“He is faring better than expected, given the circumstances.”_ **

It’s not exactly what he wants to hear, but it’ll do for now. He sighs heavily, dragging a hand across his stubbled face. Of course, he’s not sure why he’s asking SAM in the first place. Scott has already shown anger when he has asked SAM over him in the past. SAM is also the one who killed him.

His jaw clenches. “Did you even hesitate?” He’s not aware he spoke the words until SAM answers him.

**_“Perhaps you could clarify?”_ **

“When you killed him,” he says tersely. “Did you hesitate?”

**_“There was no time for hesitation.”_ **

His eyes fall closed. “So you just killed him, without a second thought.”

**_“It was the only option at the time. I would have done nothing without his permission.”_ **

Reyes doesn’t particularly like the reminder that Scott _allowed_ it to happen. That he was perfectly okay with dying, in that moment. He said he didn’t want to die… but he kept pulling stunts like _this_ , kept flinging himself into danger, and letting AIs stop his heart…

“Goodnight, SAM,” he says, as he turns away from the terminal.

The blue light fades.

He stops next to the bed, staring down at Scott for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips. Then he reaches out and lightly touches the Pathfinder’s shoulder, causing Scott to stir. Scott mumbles something incoherent under his breath, before his eyes slowly open to blink at Reyes in the dim lighting of the room.

“I think you’d be much more comfortable under the covers,” Reyes tells him with a smile.

Scott yawns widely. “Where’d you go?”

“I had a call to take,” Reyes tells him. “Keema sends her regards.”

“Everything okay on Kadara?” Scott asks.

“Everything is fine. Now, let’s get you back to sleep, shall we? And without a terrible kink in the neck when you wake.”

Scott crawls under the covers, but doesn’t settle down until Reyes lays next to him. The warmth pressed against Reyes’ side is not unwanted.

“Get some sleep,” he tells the Pathfinder.

“Not my boss,” Scott says, but the exhaustion in his voice betrays him.

“Sleep,” Reyes says again.

Scott’s already asleep, his breaths evening out. Reyes pulls him a little closer, and closes his eyes as well.

xXx

Lexi wants to do his surgery tomorrow. She says he’s as strong as he’ll be, and the longer they wait, the more complications could arise. She wants to do it as soon as possible. Tomorrow. Scott’s not ready.

He’s not sure _why_ he’s dreading this so much. He’s already died multiple times. What’s one more? And Lexi is a great doctor; he’ll be in great hands. So why is he so worried?

SAM says he’s anxious, nervous. He says it is only natural, before a surgery.

Maybe it is, but Scott has no reason to be this anxious. He trusts Lexi. She’ll take care of him.

But he can’t stop the worry from dragging a painful pit in his stomach.

Reyes refuses to leave the ship. Scott’s tried to get him off it, to visit Keema or take care of some Charlatan business, but Reyes insists he can take care of everything from aboard the ship. He isn’t going anywhere, especially with Scott’s surgery so close. Scott wonders what will happen once the surgery is over. Will Reyes retreat back to Kadara, once the danger has passed? Or will he stick around, and insist that he belongs at Scott’s side?

With a sigh, he forces the thoughts away and instead focuses on pushing his food around his plate, his grip loose on his fork. Reyes is having a private conversation with Keema in Scott’s room – Charlatan business, he calls it. A part of Scott is relieved Reyes is at least speaking to Keema about his responsibilities as Charlatan. He worked too hard to just throw it all away, and Scott won’t let him do that just because of him. Reyes deserves better than that.

He knows he needs to eat. He has a meeting with Lexi after he eats, so she can do one last exam and decree him fit for his surgery in the morning. Another chill runs down his spine, causing his back to stiffen slightly. He’s really not looking forward to this surgery.

He has no reason to be so nervous, though. Lexi is great at her job, and SAM will help her, too. There’s still the ever-present chance something will go wrong, though, and he’s died enough already, hasn’t he? Three times since coming to Andromeda. That’s too many times, and he’s not sure his mind can accept any more near-death experiences. The nightmares are bad enough now; he doesn’t need more fuel for the fire.

He has to have faith in his team, though. He does have faith in them.

And if something does go wrong… well, Cora will be a great Pathfinder.

He exhales slowly. Everything will be okay.

The food has no taste as he chews. He knows that’s wrong, but he doesn’t care at the moment. Food is the last thing on his mind, and he’s only eating right now because if he doesn’t, SAM will tattle on him to Reyes and Lexi, and having them double-team is not something he ever wants to have happen.

So, he eats.

Once the food is gone, he stands and cleans off his plate before replacing it in the cabinet. As he turns to leave the room, he nearly runs into Liam.

“Hey, Ryder,” Liam says with an amicable nod, making a beeline for the refrigerator. “How’s it going? Anxious about tomorrow?”

Scott forces a smile when Liam looks at him. “It’s going okay, and I’m not worried. Lexi knows what she’s doing.”

“That she does,” Liam agrees with a nod. “Still, it’s okay to be nervous. It’s a risky procedure.”

_Is he trying to make me feel better, or worse?_

“I guess,” Scott says with a small shrug. “But I’m sure it will be fine.”

Faith. He needs to have faith. If he doesn’t, he’ll lose himself in the storm that is his mind.

“Did you eat?” Liam asks, pulling a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He lifts another, waving it in front of Scott, silently asking if he wants one, but Scott shakes his head and Liam puts it back in the fridge.

“I ate. I’m on my way to see Lexi now.”

“Good.” Liam smiles brightly. “Don’t worry, Ryder. I’m sure you’ll be back to your old self in no time.”

Scott wishes he had Liam’s enthusiasm. He smiles back, and leaves the room, walking down the hallway toward the med bay. Lexi is waiting for him inside, and gestures for him to sit on a bio bed. He sits, and waits semi-patiently for her tests to begin.

The orange glow of her omni-tool as it runs over him is almost reassuring. It’s familiar, and simple, and allows him a moment to breathe. Then, satisfied with whatever readings she received, Lexi steps back, the orange glow fading. When she reaches for a syringe, he almost winces.

“I need to draw some blood,” she tells him. “Just a little.”

“Fine.”

The needle pokes through his skin, and he watches as the tube fills with dark blood. She removes the needle and presses a cloth to his arm, to stem the light bleeding.

“Everything looks in order for tomorrow,” she tells him as she works, taking the blood across the room toward her equipment, “but I won’t know for sure until the blood results come out. It won’t take long.”

“Alright.”

He has nowhere else to be right now. Reyes is occupying his room, and he doesn’t want to disturb his call.

It’s nearly fifteen minutes later when Lexi turns from her equipment with a smile. “All good,” she tells him. “Get a good night’s sleep and I will see you first thing in the morning.”

Scott leaves the room, the doors quietly shutting behind him. He’s not sure what to do with himself now. Is Reyes still speaking to Keema? He didn’t realize how much time he spent in his room until now. Maybe he should fix that.

It’s not the first time he’s accidentally been antisocial with his crew.

He heads for the bridge, and smiles at the banter he hears from the other side of the room, Suvi and Kallo unaware of his presence just yet. He comes up behind them, quiet as a mouse.

“So you really think I should say that to her?” Suvi is asking, sounding rather flustered.

“Of course,” Kallo replies, tapping away at his console, probably checking up on the _Tempest’s_ systems since they don’t have anywhere to be at the moment. One day he will learn the story behind the animosity between his pilot and engineer.

“And you think she’ll say yes?”

“I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

 _Oh, does Suvi have a crush on someone?_ Scott smirks to himself, clearing his throat. Suvi and Kallo stiffen and quickly whirl around to face him. A bright smile spreads across Suvi’s face.

“Ryder!” she says happily. “It’s good to see you. Did the tea help?”

He nods. “Yeah. It was great. Thanks.” He doesn’t mention that he never tasted it. He doesn’t tell her he dropped it shortly after she gave it to him. There’s no need to burst her bubble.

Her smile widens. “That’s great! I’m happy to help. Would you like more?”

“I know you don’t have a lot of it,” Scott says, shaking his head. “You don’t have to waste it on me. I’m fine.”

“Surgery tomorrow,” Kallo says, causing Scott to glance his way. “How do you feel?”

He shrugs. “I’m fine.” Then he mentally winces; maybe he does lie about his well-being too much. It’s instinct now. “I mean – I’m nervous, but, you know… I’m okay.”

“It’s normal to feel nervous,” Kallo tells him with a nod.

Oh, good. He has the ship gossip’s approval. “I guess so.”

“How is Mr. Vidal?” Suvi asks.

Scott’s unaware he was tense until his spine relaxes as he thinks of Reyes. “He’s good,” he tells his science officer. “He’s speaking with Keema right now, so I’m giving them some privacy.” _And now I’m unsure what to do with myself, or where to go. Maybe I’m a bit of a recluse in my own ship._

That needs to change. This is his crew. He should spend more time with them.

There’s a soft whir off to the side, the door to Peebee’s room opening. She smiles as she spots him. “Ryder! Just the man I wanted to see. I have something for you.”

He lifts a brow. “Oh?”

Her grin is impish. “Come see.”

He follows her into her little nook of a room, her excitement infectious.

xXx

A robot.

Peebee built him a robot.

He’s not sure why he’s so surprised. She’s mentioned doing this before, and they went back and forth on ideas and concepts, but he never thought she’d actually do it. And if she did, he didn’t think she’d actually make _him_ one. Currently, she has two robots – the one hovering in her room constantly, and now this little battle robot for Scott.

He eyes the robot almost fondly.

“Thanks, Peebee,” he says sincerely.

She smirks at him. “I know you’re dying to give it a try.”

“Oh yeah,” he says, grinning back at her.

“Then let’s go!”

She picks up the robot and leads the way out of the room. They head through the halls toward the storage area, where Scott used to train by himself for hours on end. It seems almost fitting that they test it here.

She fires up the robot, and its ‘face’ lights up slightly. Its tentacle-like arms waves around as it hovers in place, looking from Peebee to Scott and back again. When Peebee says nothing, but shoves Scott forward, the robot focuses solely on him. Scott lifts a hand instinctively, to touch and feel the little robot. It looks similar to the ones they’ve been fighting; Peebee says she took out the core and changed it, so it works for them instead. A difficult process, he is certain, but Peebee is nothing if not determined.

The robot makes a series of beeps and whirring sounds, under Scott’s touch.

“Tell it to do something,” Peebee whispers behind him.

“Like what?” he whispers back, keeping his gaze on the robot.

“Anything.”

“Uh… shoot that box,” Scott says, pointing. He knows there is nothing in that box; it was emptied a few days ago. The robot turns at the command and fires rapidly at the box, causing it to explode into little shards. Scott’s lips twist into a smirk. “Awesome.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Peebee hums, coming to stand next to him. “I don’t have it fully calibrated yet, but by the time you go on your next mission I should have it synced with your omni-tool. All you’ll have to do is point with it and the little guy will know what to do.”

Scott nods. “Cool. Thanks, again, Peebee.”

She nods, moving toward the robot to power it down. As it lowers to the floor, the lights fading, she turns to Scott and chews on her lower lip, gaze flickering away. “So, uh… big day tomorrow.”

“I guess so.”

“You nervous?”

Scott sighs, wishing people would quit asking him that. “A little.”

“Understandable. It’d be weird if you weren’t.” Her gaze lifts back toward him. “It’ll go fine.”

“Yeah,” Scott says, nodding. “I’m sure it will.”

xXx

Scott’s surgery is today, and Reyes isn’t sure who is a more tightly wound ball of nerves – himself or the Pathfinder. Scott acts confident, but Reyes can see the glint in his eyes when he thinks no one is looking. He puts on a smile as soon as he realizes someone is watching him, but Reyes knows he’s not as at ease as he appears. Reyes himself is nervous, too; there are so many things which could go wrong today, but he’s trying not to think about them, for Scott’s sake.

As far as Scott knows, Reyes _isn’t_ a nervous wreck.

His false bravado doesn’t stop him from staying with Scott as long as he can, in the med bay. Lexi readies her equipment, with Liam next to her. He will be helping her, as he was trained in crisis response and thus has a passing knowledge of first aid and triage, so he is going to follow her instructions and do what he can to help stem the bleeding while Lexi works.

That is definitely _not_ a shiver running down Reyes’ spine.

He smiles down at Scott, who blinks up at him sleepily, the calming meds kicking in. “You’ll be out of here in no time,” the smuggler assures him.

Scott doesn’t smile, not this time. Instead the worry shines in his eyes. “What if I don’t…” he stops, swallows, and closes his eyes, jaw clenched stubbornly.

Reyes exhales slowly. He’s never been good at comforting people, but for Scott, he’ll try his best. “Everything will be fine,” he says, squeezing the Pathfinder’s hand. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

The lines in Scott’s face smooth somewhat. Lexi joins them.

“I’ll have to ask you to leave now,” she says, apologetically.

Reyes doesn’t want to leave. He knows he might be able to stay if he really argues, and fights, but there’s a part of him that really doesn’t want to be here when they cut Scott open.

It’s one thing to witness someone being cut open, and bleeding.

It’s another matter entirely when it’s someone you care about.

He saw enough of Scott’s blood in that cave. He doesn’t think he can do it again.

Plus, he’ll only be in the way if he stays. Lexi and Liam need room to work. He’d be relegated to the sidelines, just watching.

So he stands as they place the mask over Scott’s mouth and nose.

He leaves as they’re administering the sedative, the doors quietly shutting behind him. When he looks back at them, they’re illuminated with a red seal, locking him out. He sighs, and makes his way back to Scott’s room.

Once inside, he allows the confidence and certainty to slip from his face. He sits heavily on the bed, dragging a hand across his face. Everything will be fine, he keeps telling himself. It’s what he told Scott, so he has to believe it, too. And yet, he’s seen too much darkness, in two separate galaxies, to believe everything will be _fine_. Bad things happen all the time – to bad people, good people, heroes and villains.

He opens his omni-tool, hoping to distract himself. A quick call to Keema has him discussing Collective business, his mind latching onto the conversation. The Outcasts are still a problem; they’ve already tried to launch an attack, but the Collective stopped them. Keema keeps insisting Reyes should return as soon as he can, that a quick walk from the ship won’t hurt anyone – but he can’t. He can’t leave, certainly not while Scott’s like this.

He promises he will try to come see her, in person, soon.

She looks at him dubiously. “What are you going to do when he leaves?” she asks, exasperated.

Reyes swallows. It’s something he’s thought about a lot, since Scott’s return. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to stay with Scott, but even he knows that won’t always be possible. He can’t go to the Nexus, and Scott works for the Nexus. Keema is his front, but that doesn’t mean he’s not needed here. He promised to keep her safe, if she became the face of Kadara for him. He fears he hasn’t been keeping up his end of the deal, since he’s been on the _Tempest_ the majority of the time. There’s already been an attempt on her life, and he wasn’t there.

“Reyes?” Keema prompts.

“I don’t know,” he tells her.

She sighs. “You need to figure out what you want.”

 _I want both._ Is that so wrong? He can see Scott’s point, at least. He did work hard to get this far, to have Kadara become his, and maybe he’s throwing it away. But that needs to be _his_ choice, not Scott’s. If he wants to throw it away, he will. Scott can’t take the decision away from him, make it for him, and leave without him. Reyes needs to choose.

But there’s a part of him that doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to choose. Being the Charlatan is his whole identity; it’s everything he’s worked for. But being with Scott is… unexpected, thrilling, everything he didn’t know he wanted. He can’t stop that any more than he can just quit being who he is.

He’s torn, for the first time in his life.

Keema must see it on his face. Her eyes soften. “I’m not saying you have to choose between us,” she assures him, always able to read him so easily. “I’m just reminding you that you’re the Charlatan. You look tired; get some sleep. Oh, and clean yourself up, would you? You’re a mess.” With that, she smiles, and ends the call.

Reyes drags a hand across his stubbled face, the orange glow fading.


	20. Shake Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott recovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. Um. Sorry for my long delay xD It's been a while, huh? Like 5 months. Sorry. I didn't mean for such a long delay, life has just really hated me lately. Due to medical issues, I've had to quit my job, and I have to move out of my apartment and back home until I can work again. Until then, I have to try for disability, but you know how that process goes, so. Ugh. Life just kinda sucks. So I've been in a big funk lately. 
> 
> And yet this chapter is fluffy. Don't ask me how. WTF, brain.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Comments are love!! :D

_Chapter Twenty: Shake Me Down_

Reyes tries to remain in Scott's room, out of the way, during the Pathfinder's surgery, but after four hours of waiting, he's growing anxious. It's hard to keep still, his knee bouncing when he sits, his foot tapping when he stands, his gait quick when he paces. If he keeps this up he will leave a ditch in Scott's room, which he knows his lover won't appreciate.

As the hours drag on, it becomes harder for him to remain here, doing nothing. He asks SAM for updates on Scott, but all the AI will tell him is that he is still in surgery. It's not enough, but SAM's attention is diverted mostly to Scott, which is how it should be. That just means he can't get more information out of him, though. He can't distract the AI if he is helping with Scott's surgery.

And so, he paces, and he waits, and the hours keep ticking.

At the seven hour mark, he's ready to pull his hair out in frustration. He finally leaves the room, determined to break into med bay if he has to, but at the last second thinks better of it. Distracting them can only harm Scott. He veers into the kitchen instead, and finds Cora at the table, nursing a hot cup of coffee. Reyes lingers in the doorway, debating between fresh coffee and leaving because Cora hates him.

Cora looks up at him, and offers a small smile. "Sit," she says.

He hesitates briefly, before he sighs and walks toward the counter to pour himself a mug of coffee. Once he has it, he approaches the table and sits across from Cora. She looks as tired as he feels, and he hopes he doesn't look as bad as her. It's good that Scott has surrounded himself with people who care about him, though. Reyes never had that.

"Heard anything?" he asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Nothing yet," she replies with a heavy sigh. "I'm sure we'll hear something soon, though. Where have you been hiding?"

"I've been waiting in Scott's room," Reyes tells her, correcting her on the whole 'hiding' bit. He's not hiding. He's simply... trying to stay out of the way. Reyes Vidal doesn't hide.

Cora nods, like she's expecting the answer. She sits her mug down with a small clatter, causing Reyes to quirk a brow at her. She frowns at him. "Listen," she says slowly, "I know we got off on the wrong foot... and you're still an asshole for lying to Ryder and getting him shot, but I guess you're not all bad."

Reyes blinks at her. "Thanks," he says, uncertainly. "It was never my intention for Scott to get hurt."

"I believe that."

His head spins. _Who is this and what have they done with the real Cora._

She seems to read the look on his face. And here he thought he had a good poker face. "Ryder cares about you, despite your... extra-curricular activities." Her nose wrinkles slightly, before her expression smooths again. "He's typically a good judge of character. He likes you, for whatever reason, and I will respect that."

Reyes nods at her. "Thank you."

_Scott, you make such interesting friends._

It won't right the wrongs he's done, and he knows not everything is forgiven, but at least they can be civil toward each other. He relaxes where he sits, and enjoys his coffee.

xXx

He paces outside of the medical bay, the doors still flashing red whenever he nears them. He tries to keep from bugging SAM, but he wants answers. He wants to know how it is going, how Scott's doing. He bites down hard on his lip every time he thinks about asking, though; distracting SAM is not wise, and might hurt Scott. Reyes can wait, he just doesn't want to.

He's always been selfish. When he wants something, he intends to get it. Patience works only if he has a long goal in mind. He has infinite patience for becoming the head of Kadara; not so, for when he wants a progress update on his lover.

Because Reyes is selfish, and greedy, and he wants answers now.

But he keeps from asking more than once every hour, after the seven hour mark. Seven hours is a long time, and he thought (hoped) it would be over by now. It isn't. Time still marches on, and now they are reaching the eighth hour.

Then the ninth.

Tenth.

He continues to pace, from Scott's room to the medical bay and back again. He's not the only one frequenting the door with the red circles, either; a few others drop by to check on progress, but he has few answers to give them. They leave shortly after asking him, and he's grateful for their absence. He doesn't wish for anyone to see him like this, so open and exposed as he awaits answers, but he realizes it shouldn't really bother him, that they see him like this. They saw him like this before, after all, when Scott was shot. He was a mess then. Pride didn't factor into it.

Still - he appreciates the fact they are giving him his space.

Keema has called twice but he hasn't answered. He doesn't want to talk Kadaran politics right now; he just wants to focus on the Pathfinder. He knows she wants an answer from him, but he's not in the right mindset to give her one right now. Perhaps later, after everything has settled and he's had time to think about it properly.

He has a very difficult choice to make, even if Keema says she's not giving him an ultimatum. She is, she's just too nice to say it. She cares in her own way, even if she can be a real pain in the ass sometimes. She knows this is difficult for Reyes, but nevertheless, she needs him to choose.

She's not asking that he choose between Scott and Kadara. She would never make him pick between the two. She's not cruel.

She's asking him to pick between being Reyes Vidal and being the Charlatan.

He thought they were one in the same, that one could not exist without the other - but he was wrong. The Charlatan is a shadowy, powerful figure, and Reyes Vidal is... something else. Someone else.

The Charlatan is fierce, and methodical.

The Charlatan is full of secrets and lies.

The Charlatan cares only about ruling Kadara, and running the Collective.

Reyes Vidal is a man of secrets, but there are a few rare truths. He enjoys his alcohol, he's a man of pleasure, and he's in love with Scott Ryder. The Charlatan is a cunning ruler; Reyes Vidal is a caring lover. For years, he thought the two to be the same - but maybe there is a difference. Maybe he's two different people vying for dominance in a shared mind. Maybe the Charlatan was created out of fear, out of instability. He didn't come to Andromeda to take over a planet; he came here to finally be someone, to step out of the shadows, start a new life and make a name for himself.

After the uprising, the Charlatan was born out of desperation and necessity.

Now...

Now, Reyes Vidal wants something more. He wants more than a planet.

He wants love.

He wants trust and honesty.

He wants Scott Ryder.

 **_"_ ** **_Mr. Vidal?"_ **

The sudden voice startles him from his thoughts. It takes all of his training to not flinch. He swallows, and says quietly, "I thought I told you to call me Reyes."

 **_"_ ** **_Apologies. Reyes. The surgery is finished, and Scott is resting."_ **

Reyes' shoulders slump as relief ebbs through him, ice over raw wounds. "How is he?"

 ** _"_** ** _Dr. T'Perro is optimistic,"_** SAM informs him.

Reyes releases a breath he was unaware he was holding, tension slipping out of him so easily at those words. Optimistic. The surgery went well. At least, well enough that they are optimistic about his chances, which is better than... Well. It's just better.

"When can I see him?" he asks, voice rough. He clears his throat, but doesn't repeat the words, too exhausted and worn down to do so right now.

 ** _"_** ** _Dr. T'Perro will allow you in to see him in another hour,"_** SAM assures him.

He nods, though he wonders if SAM can see him doing that. An hour. He can do that. He's waited this long, he can endure a little longer, right? This is for Scott. He can wait for an eternity if he has to.

 _Strange,_ he can't help but think to himself, _how quickly things change..._

A year ago, he would have laughed if anyone said he'd ever be this worried about someone other than himself. A year ago, he'd have shot them dead if someone told him he'd come to care about someone this much. Time moves quickly; things change quickly.

He runs a hand across his face, and continues his pacing.

xXx

There's a thick fog in Scott's mind as he claws his way toward consciousness.

His first thought upon awakening is: _what the hell is sitting on my chest... an elephant?_

His chest aches, tremendously. It's like there's a massive, constricting weight sitting there, hindering his breaths, reducing each small movement to little bursts of agony. There's a flurry of voices above him, murmurs he can't decipher, and then there's a rush of something through his system. Something heavy and cooling, and then he's floating.

 _Ah. The good meds, then,_ he thinks, with a goofy smile slipping across his lips.

A hand finds his own, squeezing his fingers tightly. He attempts to open his eyes, but the lids are seemingly stitched together, and not so easily parted.

"Can you hear me?" a familiar, smooth voice asks.

Scott relaxes, the goofy smile growing. _Reyes_. Reyes is here.

 _I hear you,_ he thinks. _Just can't get my mouth to work at the moment._

"Yes, I can see you're on the good drugs," Reyes hums, smirk evident in his voice. "Only the best for my space hero."

Warmth floods through him at the words, lessening the weight on his chest.

"The meds will make you sleepy," Reyes continues. "Don't fight it. I'll be here when you wake up."

Scott exhales sleepily, contentedly. Reyes is here, and he won't leave. He's safe. They're both safe.

He isn't sure what happened - why he's floating right now, or why an elephant decided to sit on his chest - but right now, that's not important.

He slips into a comfortable, easy sleep, his fingers squeezed in a tight, warm grip.

xXx

When he next wakes, it's much less unpleasant.

The fog in his mind is barely there, replaced with a haze of sleepiness and fatigue. There's warmth pressed against his side, and when he manages to turn his head to the side and pry heavy eyelids open, he can see Reyes asleep next to him, pressed against him, one arm thrown over his middle to keep him close. He smiles tiredly, still sore, but much better than before.

 _How long have I been out?_ He wonders.

 ** _Not especially long,_** SAM replies. **_You have been in and out of consciousness for 2.3 days. Dr. T'Perro felt you needed the rest._**

 _Translation,_ Scott thinks, scowling, _she knocked me out so I wouldn't disobey her orders for 'rest'._

**_I can neither confirm nor deny this._ **

_Yeah... sure, SAM. Thanks._

He isn't entirely surprised, of course. Lexi has been scolding him for not taking her instructions 'seriously'. He needs to do better. He always needs to do better.

_But I'm trying... and that counts for something, right?_

It must, because 'trying' led him to Reyes, and this... this is great. Perfect.

His eyes fall closed again.

"Mm," Reyes says, causing him to flinch in surprise. "I know you're awake. Done arguing with SAM yet?"

"We weren't arguing," Scott says, smirking as he opens his eyes again, to find Reyes' brown eyes watching him. "Hey, you."

"Hello, yourself," Reyes replies, smiling. "Sleep well?"

"Sure," Scott says. "Yourself?"

"I didn't sleep quite as deeply as you did, I'm afraid, but I slept fine," Reyes tells him. The smile lessens. "How do you feel?"

"Sore, but... I can breathe a little better."

"That's good."

"I take it everything went fine?"

"Everything went smoothly."

 _That's good,_ Scott thinks, relaxing slightly. "Were you here the whole time? You didn't have to stay, if you were needed elsewhere."

He doesn't want Reyes losing everything he worked so hard for on Kadara, just for him.

Reyes scowls at him. "Keema has things under control, and I would never leave you unless I absolutely had to."

Hearing the words leave warmth flooding through him. He smiles.

"Do you feel any significant pain?"

"I think SAM has it under control for now," Scott says. He feels sore, but he knows he could feel so much worse after surgery. As it is, he thinks he feels pretty okay, considering. He's just grateful everything went okay, because things could have gone so incredibly wrong.

"SAM?" Reyes asks, leaving Scott's face twisting in a scowl.

"I can answer for myself, you know," he can't help but huff.

 ** _"_** ** _He is not lying,"_** SAM assures the smuggler. **_"He is mostly exhausted at this point."_**

"Then you should get some more sleep," Reyes says.

Scott sighs heavily, even as his eyelids threaten to drip downward. "I've been sleeping for days."

"You need the rest, my space hero."

With Reyes' arms around him, sleep claims him easily.

xXx

Laying awake, watching the Pathfinder sleep, is almost soothing, in a way. He listens to the quiet exhales and watches the rise and fall of Scott's chest, finding comfort in the fact it is still rising and falling. Things could have gone so very differently with the surgery, as Reyes well knows. He's seen death more times than he can possibly count, been the cause of it so many times â€“ it's just nice to see that things can go right, for a change. Scott deserves things to go right.

Reyes doesn't want to slip away from his space hero, but he does have a call to make, now that Scott is doing better. He sighs and reluctantly untangles himself from the Pathfinder, and slips out of bed. His bare feet hit the cool floor, leaving his toes curling, his mind whispering to climb back into bed because the _Tempest_ is a little chilly today. He pushes those thoughts away and quietly makes his way out of Scott's room.

The kitchen is empty, and should be for a little while; it's still early, and there is no coffee brewing so no one will be nearby for a time, yet. He brings up his arm, presses a few fingers to the panel there, and the orange screen of his omni-tool flashes, illuminating the room. The call connects, and Keema's face looks back at him.

"How is the Pathfinder?" she asks.

Reyes appreciates that that's her first question. "He's doing well, considering," he replies.

"That's good to hear. And yourself? You look better."

He rolls his eyes under her scrutiny. "I'm fine." _At least, much better now that all of that is over._ Now that the surgery is over, and Scott is in bed resting, he feels almost like a new person. He didn't think it was possible to feel this much relief.

"This time, I believe you," Keema says, nodding. "Things are quiet here, but thanks for checking in."

"I'm sorry I couldn't sooner. It didn't feel right."

"I understand. As I said, things are quiet for the time being. I think the Outcasts are mounting an attack, but I have contacts out searching for them as we speak. I should hear back from them soon, and I'll let you know what I've found."

"Thank you, Keema." He hesitates briefly, before he sighs. "You're a good friend."

"Look at you, growing up," Keema says, smirking at him. "I could get used to this new you."

"Yeah, yeah. Let me know how it goes."

"I will."

"And be careful."

"Always am."

Reyes nods and ends the call, the orange glow fading, threatening to plunge him into darkness if not for the very dim lighting coming from under the cabinets. They illuminate the room just enough for him to see the edge of the table and counters so he doesn't run into anything.

He scrubs a hand across his face, fingertips scraping against stubble. He really needs to shave. A hot shower would not be remiss, either.

Perhaps, while Scott is sleeping, he will do just that.

xXx

It takes a few more days before Scott feels up to doing anything more than sitting up. Lexi says this is to be expected, but he feels more than a little useless, just sitting here or sleeping all the time. He's the Pathfinder; he has responsibilities. SAM reminds him of missed vid-calls with Tann and Addison. He's not looking forward to answering those, that's for sure. They're also getting closer to tracking where this Meridian is, which he supposes is good, but thinking of diving back into everything so quickly after his surgery... well, it leaves a numb feeling settled somewhere in his chest. But maybe that's just residual aftereffects from the surgery itself. Who knows.

As it is, he's been out of surgery for a week, and he still feels so incredibly weak. Lexi assures him this is normal, and his strength will come back within the next week or so, but in the meantime he just feels so drained, and useless. He should be doing something, not just sitting around like an invalid.

 ** _It takes time to heal,_** SAM assures him. **_You are healing._**

 _Slowly,_ Scott thinks, almost bitterly.

**_You will heal in time. You must be patient and not overexert yourself, or I will inform Dr. T'Perro and Mr. Vidal that you are not following orders._ **

_That's cruel, SAM. And unfair._

He supposes he has no choice but to rest, then. He can't have both of them getting onto him for disobeying. Not again.

Once was enough for him, thank you very much.

Slowly it is, then.

He'll get better. Eventually.

**_That is the correct spirit, I believe it is called._ **

_Yeah, Mr. Optimistic, that's me._

xXx

By the second week, he's feeling a lot better. Reyes had to leave to take care of some Charlatan business a few days ago, but he vid-calls every chance he gets. Scott had to kick him off the _Tempest_ to get him to leave, but it was necessary. Reyes needs his own life separate of Scott's and the _Tempest_ ; he has to be the hidden Charlatan eventually. He worked so hard for it, and Scott won't let him just throw it away.

Things are slowly starting to get back to normal. He trains in the storage bay every evening, under Lexi's careful eye since she doesn't trust him not to overexert himself even though he assures her that is nearly impossible with SAM watching and aware of his every move. He discusses robots with Peebee and bickers with Liam during meals, and he and Cora talk Pathfinder business when they can catch a moment to do so. Drack and Vetra have been disappearing together to do odd jobs on Kadara, about which they will tell him nothing. They return to the ship with smiles on their faces and laughing at each other, so he assumes everything went well, whatever it was. Drack is even overheard at one point telling her, "And that's why you bring a krogan."

Scott has remained aboard the _Tempest_. He hasn't really set foot on Kadara since Reyes' takeover and Sloane's downfall. Perhaps he should remedy that. The thing is, he knows some people, mostly Outcasts, blame him for Sloane's death since there were rumors he went with her to the meeting. Kaetus has been especially vocal about his hatred of the Pathfinder for not protecting her when he should have, when that was what he was hired to do. He claims Scott Ryder is not a man of his word. Scott tries not to let the accusations bother him.

There was nothing he could have done, though. What happened with Sloane... it happened. Nothing will change it. She shot him first. He was unaware of her fate after he hit the ground. Reyes told him what happened, and it was an unfair fight from the beginning, and that certainly doesn't sit right with him... but what would? That entire situation was terrible, and he wanted no part of it. If he could keep himself from going, he would, but he can't. He went, he got shot, and that hidden sniper killed Sloane.

It was the lesser of two evils, he thinks. Of course, he might be biased as he will never pick for Reyes to die instead. Never. The mere thought sends chills racing down his spine.

It's in the past. He needs to quit thinking about it, because nothing he can do will change it.

Just like nothing he can do will bring his father back.

It's when he's alone in his quarters that he thinks of his father. These were meant to be his father's quarters; his father's room, his father's legacy, his father's journey. He feels almost like he stole this from Alec Ryder, even though it was freely given. He'd had no choice in the matter, just as he'd had no choice in Sloane's death.

Come to think of it... he hasn't had a lot of choice his whole life, has he?

They were Sara's choices, or their mother's choices, or their father's... Or Reyes' via hidden sniper... Or Sloane's, dragging him to the meeting...

They've never been _his_.

He scrubs a hand across his face, sighing shakily.

 ** _You have made choices as well,_** SAM tells him.

_Oh? Have I?_

He can't remember. It doesn't feel like it.

Except Reyes.

He chose Reyes.

He chose to have Reyes.

He could have said no. He could have said he regretted their kiss. He could have pushed the smuggler away.

He didn't.

That was his choice, and no one else's.

Maybe he does have some say over his own life.

xXx

"I was just thinking about you."

Reyes' blinks at him through the orange glow of the omni-tool. "Good thoughts, I hope?"

"The best," Scott assures him, smiling.

Reyes smiles back. "It's good to see you're doing better. What are these thoughts you had of me? Were clothes optional?"

Scott snickers. "You're such a pervert."

"Can I help it if I think we fit together perfectly without our confining clothes?"

He rolls his eyes. "And here I chose you."

"Excuse me?"

He clears his throat, humor fading. "I chose you."

"Yes, you did," Reyes says, though he sounds a little confused. "For what, exactly?"

"I just chose you. I could have said no."

"I am a very stubborn man who doesn't take no for an answer," Reyes tells him, but he's smirking.

"You would have listened to me."

"Shh... I can't have you spreading that around." Now, that's definitely a smug grin on his face. "So, you chose me, did you?"

"Yep," he says, popping the 'p'.

"Well, I chose you."

Scott grins, feeling better than he has in a long time. "I love you," he says quietly, sincerely.

Reyes' expression softens. That look that's only for him. "And I love you. I'll be back soon."

"Take your time," Scott says, despite the warmth flowing through him. He wants to see Reyes, in person. Right now. But he can wait. He'll always wait. "I'll be here."

Reyes sighs. "Do you know how difficult you make it to stay away from you?"

"I could always dress up as my father."

Reyes balks. "Please don't. I didn't need that image in my head."

"Some say I'm the spitting image of him, you know."

"Stop it."

"Some say my chin is especially-"

"Stop!" Reyes says, laughing. "You're cruel, did you know that?"

"I've been called worse."

"Now who's the bastard?"

"Still calling me names? Tell me again why I chose you?"

"Because you love me," Reyes says, smirking.

"I do."

He loves Reyes.

He chose him.

And would again, and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer is still doing that thing where every time I copy something to paste it here, it adds a shit ton of random ass symbols where there are "..." or "-". So if you see weird ass symbols... one of those were there. I'm going to try to go through and get them all, but it's a long process and very annoying. So, yeah. Wish me luck.
> 
> PS: Rest of the titles might not be from Cage the Elephant songs. I only have like 4 of them on my iTunes and you can only take so many titles from them. I never expected this story to get this long and it doesn't look like it's going to be stopping any time soon, so. You know. New titles might be from random songs by different artists. Sorry if that bothers you. I'll still let you know where the song came from.
> 
> PSS: This chapter's title comes from "Shake Me Down" by Cage the Elephant. Of course.


	21. We're Gonna Have Some Problems, Though

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott's emotions are a tennis-match of back and forth, up and down, but there's little he can do about that except power through it. And it's time to get back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, sorry again for the delay. I don't mean to leave it for so long, it just kind of happens. I need to play the game again to really get back into it, but meh. I don't feel like it right now, which is the main problem I'm having with this story and Another Piece of the Puzzle. I'll eventually get back into it, though, moving just took a lot out of me. I'm still not completely unpacked. I did get to keep my kitties though, because I'm a manipulative little shit, to be honest. Still having a shit load of migraines, which isn't fun at all, but such is life. I'm tired of being bedridden all the time.
> 
> On the bright side, I downloaded a bunch of songs and made myself some headache CDs lol. This chapter's title comes from one of them. It's from "The Getting Over It Part" by Blue October, because that song is catchy and Blue October is amazing. I have 18 of their songs lol. Anywho. I will try to update soon, but again I really need to get back to the game to really update anything, and yeahhh not sure when that will be. 
> 
> Reviews, as always, are motivating and make me want to continue :3 They are always loved.

_ Chapter Twenty-One: We’re Gonna Have Some Problems, Though _

 

Kadara looks much the same as always, even after the change in power. Scott’s not sure why he thought it would look different. The streets are still crowded in Kadara Port, and from what Reyes has said, it’s much the same down below in the slums. Everything is pretty much the same, but there’s a new group in charge.

Reyes insists he get out of the _Tempest_ for a while, and so they go for a stroll through Kadara Port despite Scott’s misgivings. Reyes assures him nothing will happen to him while he’s with him, and if anyone tries anything, it will be the last thing they’ll do. Scott argues, at first, but eventually gets worn down because it’s surprisingly hard to tell Reyes Vidal no. Especially when SAM is in agreement with the smuggler. They’re ganging up on him, and it’s completely unfair.

So, they disembark the _Tempest_.

It’s sunset, and getting chillier. As the sun fades into the horizon, Scott shivers and slips a little closer to Reyes. He’s not sure if he’s cold because of the temperature or because his circulation is still improving. He’s doing better, he knows; he can walk on his own and doesn’t get tired nearly as easily, but he still gets cold rather often. Lexi assures him this is normal and will eventually pass like everything else; he just has to be patient.

It’s hard, though – being patient. He has so much to do, so many responsibilities, and he really doesn’t have time to just sit around waiting to get better. He needs to be better _now_. They still have a job to do. They need to find Meridian before the Archon. If they fail…

 _We can’t fail._ They can’t afford to fail. It’s all over if they do.

They can’t fail.

So Scott needs to get better.

“I can almost hear your negative thoughts from here,” Reyes tells him with a scowl.

Scott smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. I’ll try to keep it down.”

“I’d prefer if you’d throw them out entirely.”

He shrugs; that’s impossible. He has too much on his mind, and he can’t afford to just ignore these thoughts. There’s too much at stake.

Reyes sighs. “At least relax, will you? Enjoy the evening.”

He takes in a slow breath and relaxes his posture, before smiling at Reyes. “Better?”

“I can’t tell if you’re really relaxed or merely humoring me,” Reyes says, shaking his head.

His hands land on Scott’s unprotected shoulders; Scott wasn’t ready to handle the weight of his armor just yet, despite his misgivings about leaving the ship without it. The truth of the matter was his armor didn’t matter in the long run; after all, Sloane managed to nearly kill him easily enough, despite his armor. It could only do so much for him. Now Reyes’ hands easily knead into the tender flesh, pain momentarily spiking from tense muscles until he works out the knots – then it’s just a good ache.

“What are you doing?” Scott asks, when he can find his voice. People are glancing at them now; they’re in public and Reyes is… what? Giving him an impromptu massage? Why?

“You’re too tense,” is Reyes’ response. “This is supposed to be a relaxing outing.”

He sighs. “Have you forgotten how I went with Sloane and she turned up dead?”

Reyes’ fingers tighten a little too much, shooting a spark of pain through his muscles, before the smuggler loosens his grip. He can feel the scowl Reyes is throwing him from behind him. “That is hardly your fault; I’m certain they heard you were injured as well.”

“So now I’m incompetent, too,” Scott mutters. “Great.”

“You’re certainly not incompetent, and since when do you care what they think?”

Reyes has a point. He hasn’t ever cared before. Why start now?

Except he can’t help but think they hate him for not protecting Sloane. But what could he have done, if he hadn’t been shot? Protected her from Reyes? Shot at Reyes himself? He winces at the thought; it’s a road he’d rather not go down. What’s past is past and there’s nothing he can do about it anyway, so dwelling on it can only end in disaster.

“Relax,” Reyes breaths, right in his ear, the hot air against his earlobe causing him to shiver. Teeth scrape the earlobe in a light nibble. “As far as everyone is concerned, you’re dating a smuggler, so you can’t be that bad.”

“Is that so?” Scott asks, struggling to keep his voice calm and even despite what Reyes’ breathy presence is doing to him.

“Would I lie to you?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

It’s not a nibble this time; it’s a bite. “I said I wouldn’t lie to you anymore.”

Scott sighs. “Fine. What, um… what are we doing out here, anyway?”

“You’re supposed to be relaxing but you’ve apparently forgotten the meaning of the word.” Those fingers release his shoulders and the warm air leaves his ear as Reyes moves to stand next to him again. “We’ll have to remedy that.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

Reyes grins.

Scott swallows. The smuggler is a little too close, moving to stand in front of him. Soon his lips are brushing against his in a light, chaste kiss which leaves his heart racing.

“But first,” Reyes says, pulling away with a smirk, “let’s finish our walk. The fresh air will do you some good.”

xXx

The fresh air _does_ do him good, Scott thinks. It’s nice to be outside again, despite the lingering stares. No one tries anything, or if they do, he doesn’t notice. He’s certain SAM would warn him if anything were to happen, and he knows Reyes is packing at least one weapon on his person. It bothers him, though – having to lean on them to take care of him. He’s the Pathfinder, after all; he should be able to take care of himself. SAM assures him this feeling of helplessness will eventually pass, the more he recovers, but as it is right now… it’s more than a little frustrating.

But it’s nice to be out of the _Tempest_. He likes the ship, but he has been cooped up in it for a while. It’s nice to breathe fresh air and feel the sun’s fading glow attempting to warm his arms. As the sun sinks into the horizon, the temperature cools and he shivers; Reyes pulls him close with a laugh.

He likes Reyes’ laugh.

He likes being this close to him.

Maybe he should have fought harder against this, against _them_ , but in the end, this makes him happy. He likes Reyes’ presence; he loves this man. And right now, there’s so little he can enjoy in this galaxy. He’s not going to waste a moment of this. He’s not going to think about what-ifs and what might-have-beens. Maybe he should have kept Reyes at arm’s length, but that didn’t happen, and dwelling on it won’t change that. Besides – he likes Reyes right where he is.

 ** _It is good,_** SAM says, **_to see you relaxing._**

He swallows, aware that Reyes is watching him. _I’m trying to take it easy._

**_I am certain both Mr. Vidal and Dr. T’Perro approve of your efforts._ **

_Oh, I’m sure they do._

Lexi has been all over him about resting and relaxing and ‘no strenuous activity’. She suspects that in a week or two he’ll back to normal, right as rain. He can’t wait. He’s so tired of feeling like this, of resting and waiting and having everyone attempt to _help_ him…

It’s so strange. Since when do people want to help him? _Him_ , Scott Ryder, not the Pathfinder. It’s such a foreign concept.

First it started with Reyes, and now… it seems to be spreading.

He’s not entirely sure what to think of that. He just knows it leaves this warm, mushy feeling in his chest.

“What would you like to eat?” Reyes asks.

They are currently at an outdoor dining establishment. It’s nothing fancy; nothing on Kadara ever is. This appears to be one of the only ‘restaurants’ here, though he’s not certain he can really call it that. There’s a food stand and a few tables to sit at; that’s it. Still, it works, he supposes.

He shrugs. “Get me whatever, I’m not that hungry.”

His appetite will return in time, Lexi told him. Sadly, not quickly enough.

Reyes nods and steps away from the bench seat. “Stay right there.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Scott says, smirking at him.

Reyes snorts and rolls his eyes on his way toward the food stand. Scott stays put but looks around; it’s nice to see a place like this, really. It reminds him of home, reminds him of Earth. A pang of longing shoots through him; he misses home. He misses warm summer days, rainy spring days, storm fall days, and even – if he’s being honest with himself – chilly winter days spent inside with his family. He misses it all, but he’ll never have that back, not unless they find a planet almost exactly like Earth, which is rather doubtful.

What’s it matter, anyway? Without Meridian, the Archon wins and they’re all doomed.

_I have to do better._

He’s failed so far, failed against the Archon at every turn. Sure, he got them through the Scourge during their first contact with the Archon, and managed to escape the Archon’s trap – but that was SAM’s doing, not his. SAM got them through that more than anything. Scott was just along for the ride.

He needs to do better. _Be_ better.

“Ah, I see those troublesome thoughts are back,” Reyes says, sitting next to him again. He puts down familiar-looking food.

Scott stares at it for a moment. “Are you serious?”

“Hmm?” Reyes asks, taking a bit of his food.

“Hotdogs?”

“They’re not filled with the same things as back home, but a hotdog is a hotdog,” Reyes tells him, smirking around a mouthful.

Scott chuckles and grabs his hotdog. It’s a slightly different shade of pinkish-red, more pink than anything, but it’s a hotdog and he hasn’t realized how much he’s missed those until now. He takes a bite.

It doesn’t taste exactly like the ones back home, but it’s not bad. He smiles.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Reyes asks after a moment of shared silence.

Scott spares him a glance, swallowing his current mouthful. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever is bothering you.”

He looks away, focusing down on the metal table beneath them. “I’m fine.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t lie to me.”

He sighs heavily. “It’s nothing. I just… have a lot on my mind.”

“All the more reason to share it with someone.”

“I have SAM.”

Reyes huffs, frustrated. “Are you saying that AI is better than me?”

“Of course not,” Scott says, glancing at him again to find the smuggler watching him carefully. “I just… I don’t know. I have so much to do and I’m still stuck on my ass.”

“It’s a lovely ass to be stuck on,” Reyes says, smirking. Scott’s face burns. “But you need your rest. What’s the alternative? Run off into danger _again_ and wind up even worse?”

Reyes’ tone makes it clear how little he likes that particular suggestion.

Scott sighs. “I mean – no? I know I have to rest, I just… wish I could rest faster.”

“Then it wouldn’t be rest.”

He shrugs, returning his focus to his food.

“Well,” Reyes says slowly, “I’m here if you ever want to… talk.”

“I know you are,” Scott says quietly. “Thank you.”

_I owe you so much already._

They finish their food in relative silence.

xXx

The nightmares are the worst.

Sometimes he can’t breathe. Sometimes he’s suffocating in a dirt grave dug by his own hands. Sometimes he’s choking on air with a hole in his chest. Sometimes he’s perfectly fine, but there’s no air in his lungs and no matter how hard he tries he can’t draw in a breath. He falls sideways, chest aching and lungs burning, and everyone is staring at him and no one is helping him. Someone smiles, watches as he stills, and then they turn away. They don’t even care, because he is a nuisance and they’re better off without him. He chokes and dies and everyone is all the better for it, because SAM goes to Cora and she is so much better at this. So much better at being Pathfinder.

Sometimes he’s not the one choking. Sometimes it’s Reyes there on the ground with a hole in his chest and blood on his lips and that is somehow far worse. This time he can’t breathe for entirely different reasons, dropping to his knees next to the smuggler’s body, and his hands press and push and struggle to hold that life blood inside, but he’s failing, failing, _failing_ , and Reyes dies.

Reyes dies and Scott lives and everyone is staring at him. _It’s your fault,_ their looks say plainly. _It’s all your fault._

Sometimes they’re all dead. Everyone on his crew. Cora, Liam, Jaal, Peebee… all of them. They’re all dead, and he’s left standing, and SAM is silent in his head but his accusations are loud and echoing all the same. _It’s your fault_ , SAM’s silence says as he stares down at the still forms, previously so full of life and hope and faith _in him_ of all people. _It’s your fault they’re dead. It’s all your fault because they trusted the wrong person and you failed them all._

And deep down, he knows that. He knows he’s going to fail them all.

He wakes every night struggling for breath, cold sweat dotting his brow. Sometimes Reyes shakes him awake, but on the nights the smuggler is not there and is away tending his business in Kadara Port or down on Kadara’s surface, Scott wakes when his heart stutters painfully in his chest and SAM’s voice echoes in his head, jolting him into awareness between one beat of his heart and the next. Either way, it’s terrifying.

He doesn’t talk about his nightmares. Reyes tries to get him to talk about them, coaxes him into a sense of calm and tries to get a response out of him, but he doesn’t ever admit his fears. That he isn’t enough. That they’ve all placed their faith in the wrong person and he’s ultimately going to be the death of them all. It’s better if they just let him die, let SAM transfer to Cora now instead of later, but he can’t bring himself to say the words. Can’t bring himself to admit that he’s such a screw up, such a failure, not to Reyes.

A part of him wonders what would happen if he did speak the words. If he said them aloud. Would Reyes agree with him? Would the warmth fade from his gaze as he pushed Scott away? Would he laugh and say Scott’s right, and they would be better off without him? Or would he fight for Scott? Would he say Scott was wrong, and attempt to get him to see it another way?

He’s not sure which option is worse, to be honest. Of course he wants reassurances, wants Reyes to tell him he’s not a failure, but at the same time that makes him needy. And if he admits to being needy, Reyes won’t ever leave the ship. He’ll stick by Scott, if he believes in him wholeheartedly, because that’s who Reyes is and Scott can’t do that to him. He can’t let him lose everything he’s worked so hard for just because Scott is a needy little screw up, bound to fail everyone around him.

So he doesn’t say anything. Eventually Reyes stops asking, and they just sit in silence when the smuggler wakes him, with Reyes’ arms wrapped around him in a comforting blanket he doesn’t deserve.

SAM knows what his nightmares are about, so he doesn’t have to ask. He scolds Scott often, but SAM is biased. Of course he wants to reassure Scott, because he’s programmed to do that, isn’t he? He’s programmed to help his host and Scott is his host, therefore he wants to help Scott. He wants to reassure him. That doesn’t mean his words are real. Doesn’t mean that’s how he really feels. He’s just programmed to do what he can to help the current Pathfinder.

Scott tires to push the negative thoughts away. SAM said he was doing better. So did Reyes. He was doing better, and he couldn’t afford the relapse right now. He’s okay. They’re all okay. Everything is perfectly fucking _fine_ because there’s not time for it to be otherwise. So he swallows his panic; SAM won’t let him have a panic attack anyway, so what’s the point? He swallows his fear and dread and locks it away, and spends his time with the crew during the day, and fights the nightmares at night.

Eventually, Lexi says he’s strong enough for them to leave. He’s not back to 100%, exactly, but he’s hovering at around 85% which is good enough, she supposes. It’s not like they really have a choice in the matter, anyway, because Tann is tired of their stasis and has decided they need to get back on track, or he _will find someone who will_. It’s an empty threat, because Scott’s the Pathfinder, but Scott jumps to attention anyway. He’s doing all he can, and he just wishes someone could finally see that.

But they all just tell him he’s not enough. They say he treats this like a game. They say he needs to be more serious, but he’s certain that if he treats this any more seriously he’ll lose his mind completely.

It’s exhausting, this back and forth. The tennis match that has become his mind, his emotions. It’s a rollercoaster ride he never bought the ticket to get on, and there’s no way off that he can see. All he can do is pray that when the next loop happens, he won’t fall and shatter upon the ground.

They have to leave Kadara. They’ve been too stationary, Tann says, and there’s no reason for them to be at Kadara. So, they have to leave. They’re going to another planet, with another vault. Havarl, it’s called. Jaal is excited. Apparently it’s his home planet. Scott can understand his excitement.

As it is, they’ve been stationary for a little over two weeks, and that’s too much. So they have to leave and get back to work, even if Scott is only at 85%.

Reyes is less than thrilled.

“I’ll go with you,” he says, sitting on the edge of Scott’s bed.

Scott stands across from him, watching him carefully. Memorizing every line and detail of the smuggler’s face and body, just in case. Just in case something happens and he doesn’t get to see him again. He sighs. “You can’t come with me, and you know that. You’re needed here.”

“Tell hell with that.”

Reyes looks rather adorable, to be honest, with that scowl on his face and that tint to his eyes. He looks like he’s pouting. Not that Scott will ever admit how adorable it is. “Be reasonable, here. You’re the Charlatan. You have responsibilities.”

“I know that,” Reyes says, shaking his head. “But that’s what I have Keema for.”

“She’s a figurehead, but you’re the one in charge,” Scott reminds him. “I appreciate that you want to come with me, really, I do, but you can’t and you know it. Please don’t argue with me.” He doesn’t want to spend their last few moments arguing.

Reyes falls silent. The silence surrounds them for a long moment, before Reyes sighs and his shoulders slump. “Fine. I’ll stay here. But I expect vid-calls every day, do you hear me?”

Scott grins. “Sir, yes, sir.” He salutes.

“Don’t mock,” Reyes says.

“I would never.”

“I detect mocking.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

Reyes smirks, and pats the spot next to him. “Sit with me.”

Scott moves toward the bed and sits next to Reyes, their shoulders brushing together. Reyes hesitates only slightly before his hand captures Scott’s, fingers twining together.

“Be careful,” the smuggler says quietly.

“I will,” Scott promises, his jokes leaving him.

“What will you do about Meridian?”

“I don’t know,” Scott says. “When Tann decides, I’ll let you know.”

He wants to go after Meridian. He needs to go after Meridian. But Tann is trying to form a solid form of attack, and he has more experience with that than Scott does. So while he is getting a group together, Scott needs to recover and continue his work with the vaults. Once their form of attack has been decided, and their attack group is together, they can take Meridian. Until then, he’s stuck doing this, and hoping it’s the right move, and hope he’s enough. Hoping he’s not simply delaying the inevitable because he’s useless and-

 ** _I do not appreciate such thoughts,_** SAM says.

Scott swallows, refocusing on the here and now. Reyes is watching him carefully, brown eyes worried, and Scott hates that look on the smuggler’s face. Hates that he put that look there in the first place.

“Sorry,” Scott says.

“We’ll work on it,” Reyes tells him, before he leans close.

He smells of whiskey and aftershave and the hot Kadara sun. Of blood and sweat and gunfire. It’s a pleasant mixture he’s come to recognize as _Reyes_ , and he closes his eyes as the scent envelops him, whispering _home_ to him. Lips press against his own, lightly at first but then the pressure deepens. Hands grab his shoulders and turn him, and then he’s pushed flat on the bed with Reyes sitting atop him, straddling his waist.

The smuggler is smirking when Scott opens his eyes.

“I’d be remiss if I didn’t give you a goodbye present.”

Scott laughs, bringing his hands up to rest easily on Reyes’ hips. “Well, I can’t say no to such a gift.”

“You really can’t,” Reyes says, with a laugh of his own. His hands smooth down Scott’s chest, pushing the hem of his shirt up across the flat of his stomach. “I still say I should go with you. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you wander into the jungle alone.”

“A responsible one,” Scott replies. “Besides, it can’t be worse than the hot desert sun, can it?”

Reyes is pouting again. Scott laughs, fingers snagging the front of Reyes’ shirt, tugging him down sharply until their lips meet in a quick kiss.

“I love you,” Scott says. That’s all that really matters, in the end. He loves Reyes, and deep down he knows Reyes loves him, too. That’s never been in question, has it? They love each other, and at the end of the day, maybe that’s enough.

Reyes’ eyes soften. “And I, you. Sweetheart.”

That familiar warm thrill inches up Scott’s spine. He fights the urge to shiver as Reyes’ lips press against his once more, soft and light and loving. His arms tangle around the smuggler, and Reyes’ mouth presses a hot trail of kisses down his jaw to his collarbone.

His shirt is lost somewhere along the way, and then his pants.

Soon they’re a hot naked mess but Scott wouldn’t have it any other way.


	22. Author's Note - not a chapter, sorry

I'm super sorry about the delay, guys. I just haven't been in the Mass Effect mood. I've been having a lot depressive episodes lately and I'm just not much into anything. I'm still working on Another Piece of the Puzzle, very VERY slowly, and I just posted what I've had on my computer for 2 years concerning Borderlands because 2 years ago I was obsessed with Tales from the Borderlands after loving the other games in the series too. So, I decided to post that to see if it would motivate me to finally work on it again, because I didn't hate it, and I guess that's kind of going okay but I'm losing momentum on that, too. 

Life just kind of sucks right now. I don't want to abandon this story; I will eventually get back to it because it's special to me, but I'm having a lot going on right now. And honestly, this one and Another Piece of the Puzzle are kind of hard to write for me right now because they hit a little too close to him for me. Especially Another Piece of the Puzzle. I'm just not in a good place mentally so I can't focus on writing these right now. I'm sorry.

I appreciate all of your support. All your lovely comments and bookmarks and kudos. You have no idea how much they all mean to me, and how much they've motivated me to continue even when I'm down. How much they make me smile when I'm down. So, really. Thank you, so much. 

I'm not quitting on this story. I just have to focus on other things right now. I apologize for your wait. 

For those of you who don't know because you don't read all my author's notes on other stories (because you're sane), my parents like to be passive-aggressive in their disregard for me. Due to medical issues I had to quit my job and move back home, so now all that bad blood has returned. Shortly after the last time I updated this story in March of this year, I got into it with my parents over something really stupid. They called me the usual - stupid, fat, worthless - and kicked me out. Of course, when they're angry, they ALWAYS say shit to hurt me because that's all we do in this family - we just try to hurt everyone else and get THEM to feel guilty instead, when really we're all at fault.

I might have brought up the fact that years ago, Mom decided to get super angry. We all knew she was angry. We were all walking on eggshells around her for days. My cousin was staying with us because Mom's sister had just had a stroke and wasn't doing too well so her son was staying with us. Mom was upset because of her sister and was snapping at everyone. She told me to eat on the floor while they all got trays and I refused. I shared a tray with my cousin and was like "we always share a tray. See? We both fit." And she just LOST IT. Things were said and I snapped back because, you know, I was clearly not in the wrong that time. Well she decided to come at me. Which, yeah, I was expecting to get hit. I braced myself and stared her down, waiting. But she didn't go for the hit. Instead she wrapped her hands around my throat. Shocked, I smacked her. She reared back and said, "Don't hit me!" And I said "Don't choke me!" And more things were said. So I left crying for a few hours because WTF. Who does that to their kid in response to anger. The hell? And I wasn't even in the wrong, was I? All I did was share a tray like always. Then a few hours later I came back and tried to avoid her but she caught my arm and said 'Sorry. But you should have just done what I said. I wouldn't have gotten angry if you just did what I told you so it's your fault.' And I lost a lot of respect for her. I haven't forgiven her. But anyway - after I last updated this story, we got into it again. Real bad. And I brought up that time she thought it was best to choke me when she was angry. And more things were said and I left home contemplating driving my car into something - maybe it wouldn't kill me, but it would at least be a different kind of pain. 

I wasn't in the right headspace. She didn't apologize because she never apologizes. It's never HER fault. 

But. Anyway. that's what I've been dealing with. That and unemployment because no one wants to hire someone with a pre-existing medical condition. So I'm stressing and getting more migraines. Not to mention I was diagnosed with GERD and the heartburn and nausea have been REAL. Everything, EVERYTHING, I eat gives me heartburn. And not the moderate kind but the kind that leaves you salivating so much you just throw up several times a day. So that's been fun. I've also developed a chronic cough from it and that sucks. For a while my voice was getting super scratchy because the bile constantly rising up in my throat was hurting my voice box. 

It's just been a lot of shit all at once, piled on top of everything else. Life kinda sucks right now. 

Writing is an outlet, but right now writing stories like this one and Another Piece of the Puzzle are really hitting way too close to home so I need to step back for a bit and get it out of my system. I'll be back eventually. I thank you for your patience and apologize for spewing my woes like this but I needed a bit of an outlet. Can't talk about this stuff to my friends because they all like my parents and learning negative things about them would skew their perspective on them. And then I have issues with my friends (things I still haven't forgiven) that I can't talk about with my parents because then that will skew my parents' perspective of them. You can see the dilemma. 

So, it's depression city over here for the time being, but I'll snap out of it eventually. I always do. 

Thanks again for your patience. If you bothered to read to the end of this note, uh, thanks? You really didn't have to. I just felt good getting it off my chest. 

Until next time,

AkuChibi

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Back Against the Wall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11312688) by [Azek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azek/pseuds/Azek)




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